


The Redemption of Draco Malfoy

by RebelVale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-10 21:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 29
Words: 45,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19912225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelVale/pseuds/RebelVale
Summary: A chance glance across platform 9 3/4 leaves Draco Malfoy wishing he knew Hermione better, whilst she wonders why it is that an eligible widower never remarried.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a revised and updated version (with additional material) of a story previously posted elsewhere

  
**1st May 1998**

  
Narcissa Malfoy's wrath was something incredible to behold. She barely every lost her cool but when it came to her son she would have walked barefoot through hell. She squared up to her husband looking to him like one of the Furies.

  
"Do you understand what you have done?" she spat out at him.

  
"He will be fine Narcissa, the mudblood will be no match for him, it will be an easy assignment which will get him into the Dark Lord's good graces."

  
"You fool," she sneered, the resemblance to her sister Bellatrix becoming suddenly very apparent to her husband, "you have condemned him to death."

  
"Narcissa calm down, I know that she has bested him in class but she does not have Draco's knowledge of the dark arts, she will not use the unforgivables, you over estimate her." Lucius Malfoy tried to reassure his wife, but she would not be placated.

  
"No, you underestimate her, the power she has over Draco is far greater than any of the dark arts, he will die before he will touch her."  
For the first time Lucius Malfoy looked at his wife with a little less confidence.

  
“You have trained him well Lucius, he shows almost nothing of his emotions, but I am his mother, I see the signs that others do not, he will not kill the girl". Narcissa was adamant. "He will not kill her and the Dark Lord will kill him for his failure!"

  
Comprehension began to dawn on Lucius for the first time.

  
"No he cannot... he cannot have feelings for that girl... she is nothing, he's a Malfoy...that would be absurd," he stuttered.

  
"Would it Lucius?" Narcissa questioned, "why, because you forbid it?"

  
"Narcissa, the Dark Lord has taken measures to assist Draco, I am sure he cannot fail."

  
"You bloody arrogant fool, don't you understand, the forbidden fruit is always the sweetest." Narcissa all but snarled at her husband.

  
Lucius was stunned, not only by the manner of his wife's address but also by her words.

  
"Do you really know your own son so little?' She questioned as she continued her rant. "What has he always wanted?"

  
"He has wanted for nothing Narcissa," Lucius' tone became clipped as his own anger began to rise.

  
"Nothing except the pride in his achievements that you have refused to show him and the love of a girl you have forbidden him." She paused ready to take another line of attack.

  
"Do you really think a boy, so brilliant and gifted, would settle for one of the limp, preened and pampered pure blood princesses you foist upon him. You have taught him to want the best and you have left him conflicted. That girl is the best by all measures except one." She took a deep breath to calm herself before she finished with deadly sincerity. "You had better hope that Potter succeeds because if he does not we will never see our son again."

  
With that Narcissa stormed away, a swirl of black robes and blond hair like lightening tearing through a thunderous dark cloud.


	2. Live to Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione finds Malfoy something of an enigma when they meet again after many years.

There was much that Draco Malfoy regretted about his life. He regretted his role in Dumbledore's death, he regretted the dark mark that still scarred his forearm and he regretted that he did not know Hermione Weasley nee Granger better. He watched the brunette from a distance as she effortlessly chatted with those around her and hugged her daughter before wishing her farewell.

  
Rose Granger Weasley's red curls bounced as she headed towards him. She was a charming young woman and Draco smiled inwardly as she threw herself into Scorpius' arms. Draco's father would have had an aneurism at the thought of Scorpius dating the 'Mudblood's' daughter but secretly Draco was pleased. Rose was feisty, smart and beautiful. _Very much like her mother,_ he mused.

  
Draco wondered, _had not been for blood supremacy, would he have dated Granger_. _They were in many ways like their children in character as well as appearance. Would he have felt the same affinity with Granger that his son did with her daughter?_ It was odd really but, for a fleeting moment, Draco felt a little jealous of his son. He would have liked the freedom to have dated a witch of his choosing. Draco knew he would have liked to have dated Granger. He supposed that he had had that freedom but it would have cost him his inheritance or may be even his life. Still, he considered, Granger had never been available and she wouldn't have had me anyway. Besides, Draco's parents had chosen his wife well and he would not regret that choice. He would have given every knut he owned for another day with Astoria. She had saved him. Draco had been damaged and broken but Astoria had loved him and for that he had adored her. She had also given him a son, for which he was daily grateful, though it cost her life.  
It had been years since he had last spoken to the muggle-born witch. He had acknowledged her in passing, a polite nod of the head when he had seen her at ministry functions or in Diagon Alley, but he hadn't spoken to her. He had never actually had a real conversation with her, he supposed her conversation would be stimulating, she had not been known as the brightest witch of her generation for nothing.

  
The whistle of the Hogwarts' Express blew, Draco snapped out of his reverie to say goodbye to his son.

  
"Have a good term Scorpius, owl me if you need anything and I will see you at the Christmas Break," Draco said, taking his son by the shoulders for a manly embrace.  
"Rose," he acknowledge the younger woman before she dragged her boyfriend onto the train.

  
Draco stood on platform 9 and 3/4 until the express was out of sight then he turned ready to apparate back to the manor. It was only then that he realised she was watching him closely. He raised an eyebrow at her as if to say "what?"

Hermione had seen Draco Malfoy infrequently since they had left Hogwarts and she had barely ever spoken to him. She knew a little about him, she knew he had been a widower for 17 years. That his wife had died giving him a son and that, despite being wealthy and eligible, he had never remarried. She idle wondered why. Why had he chosen to raise Scorpius alone? It must have been a lonely existence for him. He had never really been forgiven for his role in the Second Wizarding War. Yes, his money bought some measure of forgiveness and ensured that he was not a pariah but he never lost that notoriety of being the youngest Death Eater.  
Hermione had to admit Malfoy had done an excellent job. She would not have believed that Scorpius could be Draco Malfoy's boy. Yes, he looked like his father but he was kind, considerate and lacked any prejudice at all.

  
When Rose first revealed that she was dating Scorpius Malfoy her father had been apoplectic with rage. Ron had demanded that Rose call it off he had even threatened to send her to Beauxbatons. Hermione had been seriously concerned but she had been willing to listen to her daughter, trust her judgement and give the young man a chance. Hermione had been pleasantly surprised.

  
Now, as she stood there looking at Scorpius' father, as he stood alone on platform 9 and 3/4 she considered what this said about the man who had raised Scorpius. What sort of man had he become? She acknowledged to herself that the Draco Malfoy she knew had been a boy and that she knew little of Draco Malfoy the man. She studied his face carefully; there was no sign of that sneer he had sported as a boy. Gone was the arrogance but he still retained a proud demeanour and, Hermione had to admit, he was a very strikingly handsome man. There was something very appealing about his paleness, maybe it was the smoothness of it? she considered. Draco Malfoy certainly didn't look inconsequential his pale skin and platinum blond hair gave him a certain ethereal quality. It really doesn't make sense does it? She thought to herself. Rich, handsome, eligible, devoted to his family and by all accounts very intelligent. Why had he remained unattached and taken that difficult route of raising his son alone? Was it simply that he had loved his wife so much? Was he capable of such love?'

  
It was as she wondered this that he caught her staring at him. He raised an eyebrow in question. Hermione had to suppress a smile, that was one expression that had not changed, she thought. She knew what that meant ‘what Granger?’ In her mind she could even hear him say it with that characteristic drawl.  
If he had been asked later Draco would not have known why he decided on that day of all days to speak to Hermione. He strode purposefully across the now almost deserted platform towards her.

  
"Mrs Weasley," he addressed her politely, "forgive me for not speaking to you sooner," he began, " but I was uncertain how you and your husband would receive the relationship between my son and your daughter, the sins of the father and all..." he trailed off at that.  
"I would not hold the sins of the father against the son, Mr Malfoy," Hermione replied but there was no malice in her tone. She looked up into his face, he was taller than she recalled and there was a spark of mischief in his mercurial grey eyes. That same spark she had seen in the eyes of the 11 year old boy she had first met on board the Hogwarts' Express all those years ago. It was a spark that she recalled he had lost the last time she had seen him. She was unaccountably pleased to see that it had returned.  
"Since our children's relationship might mean we need to become reacquainted perhaps we could be a little less formal, please call me Draco".  
Why not? Hermione thought to herself.

  
"Alright Draco, please call me Hermione.”

  
"Hermione," he repeated, he liked the way her name sounded on his tongue and he smiled. He didn't recall ever having used that name to address her.

  
"I hope it will not be so long until we speak again," he stated and with a final gentlemanly bow before he apparated away.

  
Hermione just shook her head. The man really was an enigma and she had to admit she was a little intrigued.


	3. The Apple never falls far from the Tree.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose's relationship with Scorpius causes conflict in the Weasley household.

When Hermione returned home, after spending a busy day at the ministry, she was in no mood for the rant that Ron began about Scorpius Malfoy.  
"So is Rose still seeing Malfoy's spawn?"  
"Ron," she exclaimed in exasperation, "Scorpius is a very nice young man. I have told you before you cannot hold his father's actions against him it is unfair both to the boy and to Rose."  
"Blah, he's a Malfoy, the apple never falls far from the tree," Ron continued dismissively.  
"Oh, for Merlin's sake Ron, Lucius Malfoy may well have been a vicious bastard but Draco was only a boy and I believe he must have changed. The man he is now is not the boy we knew and he has raised Scorpius very well.”  
"I can't believe you are defending him," Ron snarled at her.  
"Oh, grow up," she snapped.  
It was not the first argument they had had about Scorpius. In fact it was not the only thing they argued about. In truth Hermione and Ron had grown apart as they had aged. Hermione's intellect and her achievements had become an irritant to Ron who had felt that his wife outshone him. He believed himself emasculated.  
He had become more and more argumentative and now they barely spoke a civil word to each other. Now, what really concerned Hermione was Ron's attitude towards Rose and Scorpius.  
Hermione knew that it was a serious relationship and although the pair were still young she wouldn't be too surprised if they married eventually. Hermione had warned Ron that if he carried on like this he would lose Rose.  
"What do you mean 'grow up' you can't expect me to leave my child unprotected."  
"Seriously Ron, what are you protecting her from?" Hermione asked in disbelief.  
"Bloody Malfoy!" Ron growled back.  
Hermione threw her hands up in frustration.  
"Mark my words Ron, you will drive Rose away."  
With that she went up to their room. Hermione was tried and she wanted to sleep.

Hermione woke the next morning and she looked across at her husband beside her. She couldn't remember when it had happened but it had. She didn't love him anymore. They had been childhood sweethearts but they had grown apart and, although it grieved her to admit it, she could no longer see a future with him. Hermione had decided that she could bear it no longer. The habits he had, the chewing with his mouth open, his general uncouthness, things she had seen as charming, had begun to grate on her. For some time she had been thinking of moving to her own place. She had toyed with the idea of her own place in muggle London near the ministry where she could read in peace. Where he wouldn't walk in and ignore that she was reading.  
Hermione had always loved to read and he had never really understood that about her. Books were her friends. When they were younger and their children were small she accepted that she had little time to read. But now, the children were away at school and he would still allow her no peace.  
Hermione desperately wanted that peace. She felt like she had lost herself. She had buried the essence of herself to be 'Mrs Weasley', 'Rose's Mum', 'Ron's wife', Hermione was lost and she wanted her back.  
Although it was with a heavy heart she concluded that her 21 year marriage to Ron was over and she wanted out. She needed to tell Ron and then she needed to tell her children but before all of that she needed advice. That was how she found herself in Harry's office on Monday lunchtime.

"Harry can we have Lunch?" she asked hopefully.  
"Sure," Harry agreed readily, "let me just finish this I will meet you in the staff canteen in 5."  
"No Harry, I meant go out to lunch; I need to talk to you."  
"Oh!" Harry said looking up from his work, “is it serious?" He questioned, a worried frown appearing on his face.  
"Yes Harry it is."  
They went to Harry's place for lunch so they could speak privately. When Hermione revealed to Harry what she was intending to do he was truly shocked.  
"I thought you guys were forever," Harry said solemnly.  
"So did I Harry," she said.  
Harry was silent for a moment before asking cautiously; "I'm sorry for asking this Hermione but, Ron will think it, is there someone else?"  
Hermione huffed, "No Harry there is no one else Ron and I have just grown apart."  
"I'm going to have to tell him Harry, that's why I came to speak to you he will need your support."  
Harry sighed, "When?"  
"I'm going to visit my lawyers this afternoon so I guess this evening," Hermione informed him.  
"Ok, I will be available," Harry said in a monotone.  
"One other thing Harry will you tell Ginny for me? I know she will try and talk me out of it and...well I know it's for the best," Hermione said looking at her best friend with pleading eyes.  
"Are you sure about this Hermione?" Harry asked one final time.  
"Yes Harry, looking back I don't think it was Ron I really wanted it was the whole Weasley clan, I married him for the wrong reasons and now I'm unhappy and I think, if he thought about it, Ron would realise he is unhappy too".  
Harry just nodded his head slightly bowing to what he must now have realised was the inevitable.


	4. Wizarding Marriage Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Hermione visits her lawyer she is shocked to discover that divorce is not so easy as she supposed.

Hermione went from Grimmauld Place straight to the offices of her lawyers. She sat in the waiting room trying to calm her breath. She was nervous it was becoming real now. She heard the door open and then looked up to see a familiar face.  
"Mrs Weasley, Blaise Zabini, we were at Hogwarts together, I don't know if you remember me?" He greeted holding out a hand to her.  
"Oh, yes, I wasn't expecting..." he interrupted her.  
"Mr Pollock is ill Mrs Weasley, would you like to cancel and comeback when he returns?" Blaise enquired looking a little put out.  
Hermione considered it for a moment, she wasn't sure she could discuss this personal matter with someone she knew, all be it only slightly. Then again she reasoned, if she left now she might never come back.  
"Alright Mr Zabini, I am sure you are more than competent to deal with this matter."  
"Then after you," Blaise bowed slightly dramatically and ushered her into his office.

Hermione had always quite liked Blaise, although he had been in Slytherin at school he had not engaged in the taunting her alone with the others of his group. He and his family had not taken Voldemort's side in the war they had remained neutral a stance that, she now realised, must have meant he had withstood some significant pressure. Hermione had also thought Blaise handsome. As she looked at him now she could still see the boy she had known at Hogwarts. He was still handsome though traces of grey could now be seen at his temples peppering his thick dark hair. It was a reminder that they were not getting any younger. This realisation steeled Hermione; she grabbed her Gryffindor courage knowing that today was going to mark the first day of a new life for her. A life she needed to live before it was too late.

Blaise pulled out a chair for Hermione to sit then settled behind his large mahogany desk.  
"How can I help you Mrs Weasley?" He asked in a professional tone.  
Hermione took a deep breath, "I want to divorce my husband," she announced.

The women who sat opposite him had stunned Blaise, Hermione Granger Weasley, one of the golden trio, heroine of the Wizarding World had just announced that she wanted to divorce her husband. This was not all that stunned Blaise though, she was dressed in standard black robes but beneath that he glimpsed a black leather pencil skirt which clung to her slim thighs as she crossed her legs. Black patent high heel pumps elongated her legs. She was stunning. He remembered thinking her pretty when they were at Hogwarts but he would never have dared say so, his friend Draco would have mocked him mercilessly. He wondered idly what Draco would have said if he saw her now?  
Blaise was broken out of his reverie by Hermione's voice, "Mr Zabini."  
"Blaise, please call me Blaise," he said coming to his senses, " I'm sorry Mrs Weasley that was terribly unprofessional of me I was just shocked," he explained before he continued. "What do you know of wizarding divorce law Hermione? If I may call you Hermione?"  
"Yes you may, surprisingly very little," she admitted.  
Well that is surprising! Blaise thought, she did have a reputation after all for being a bit of a know-it-all.  
"Ok, then let me explain," Blaise began, " there are two types of marriage vow there are the standard marriage vows and the unbreakable marriage vows," he explained.  
"Unbreakable?" Hermione visibly blanched at this news, "unbreakable as in unbreakable vow? As in you break it and you die?" She continued slightly panicked.  
"Yes," Blaise said cautiously, "exactly like that."  
Then something occurred to Blaise:  
"Forgive me for being indelicate Hermione but is there someone else?" He asked.  
"Merlin no!" Hermione announced a note of exasperation in her voice.  
"I'm sorry I needed to ask." Hermione had seemed so distressed at the thought of the unbreakable vow he thought there might be another man.  
"So, as I was explaining there are two types of vows and only the standard vows allow for a divorce, do you know which type of vows you took?"  
"I believe they were standard vows," Hermione answered, "I hope they were standard vows," she thought out loud.  
"Well of course that will be my first task to check this, if they are standard vows then there are only two grounds for divorce cruelty or adultery."  
"Oh!" Hermione said sounding quite shocked.  
"That surprises you I see," Blaise continued allowing time for Hermione to take this news in.  
"Yes," she acknowledged, "In the muggle world simply not getting along anymore is sufficient grounds."  
"Really, how liberal!" Blaise said with mild interest before continuing, " so in short Hermione you must prove either cruelty or adultery are you prepared for that?"  
Hermione contemplated this for a long time.  
"I couldn't accuse him of cruelty it would ruin his reputation and he doesn't deserve that," she said slowly as if she was still thinking this through.  
"So then you will need to drive him into the arms of another woman."  
Hermione looked at him stunned.  
"Not so easily done," she stated quite simply.  
"No I'm sure!" Blaise exclaimed whilst thinking; If I had a wife like you I wouldn't ever want to stray.  
"How do I do that?" She enquired.  
"Well usually what clients do is first move out and then have wild passionate sex with someone else, it usually does the trick."  
Blaise was mildly amused by the blush that spread across Hermione's check bones, how charming, he thought, if his wife wouldn't kill him he would have been tempted to offer to help.  
"Oh!" Was Hermione’s mono syllabic response.  
After arranging another appointment for two weeks’ time Hermione left to contemplate what they had discussed. Blaise left for Lunch with his old friend Draco.


	5. Loyal Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco makes a startling admission during a lunch meeting with Blaise.

Draco had had a regular weekly lunch date with Blaise for years, if it had not been for Blaise and his wife Luna, Draco doubted he would have made it through after Astoria's death. They had helped him see that he needed to pull himself together for the sake of his son and they had been his loyal friends ever since. Draco knew he owed Blaise a debt he could never repay so he steadfastly made these meetings if only to give his friend a sounding board.  
"Sorry I'm late?" Blaise apologised, he was only a few minutes late but Blaise knew that Draco was a stickler for punctuality.  
"That's ok, what held you up?" Draco enquired blandly.  
"A rather interesting client," Blaise said, wiggled his eyebrows as a broad grin spread across his face.  
"Indeed!" Draco said imperiously sounding for all the world like his father.  
Blaise laughed, "You know I would never cheat on Luna, besides she would kill me".  
"Why so interesting then?" Draco asked he was curious now.  
"Have you seen Hermione Granger Weasley lately?"  
"Yes," Draco replied. Blaise looked puzzled for a moment.  
"Oh, of course because of Scorpius. He's dating the Weasley girl isn't he?"  
"Yes," Draco now sounded like Snape much to Blaise's amusement. His tone one of get...on..with... it.  
There was silence while Blaise allowed Draco's impatience to mount up.  
"Well?"  
There she blows, Blaise thought smugly to himself.  
"She visited my office today, obviously client confidentiality...I can't discuss why she came but man is she 'hot'. A man could fantasise about having those legs wrapped around him."  
"He could also have nightmares about the ginger who would punch his lights out if he did," Draco said dryly.  
"Too true," Blaise admitted, "I always thought she was pretty when we were back at Hogwarts you know but I never dared to admit it. You would have crucified me."  
Draco smiled Ruefully, "You're right I would have," then he paused. Blaise watched his friend closely. Draco was still a very closed person but over the years Blaise had learnt to read his friend and he could tell he was contemplating admitting something.  
"You know," Draco finally spoke, “and I will deny this if you ever repeat it but, part of the reason I was so mean to her at school was because it was the only way I could have any interaction with her," he paused again. "Oh, what the hell, I fancied her alright!" Draco blurted the last bit out as if it pained him to admit it.  
Blaise wasn't actually surprised by this revelation. He said nothing but offered his friend a slight smile of brotherhood. He felt truly sad for his friend. Draco had suffered so much as a teenager and this was just one more thing that had added to his suffering. He suffered because he had wanted a girl he could never have.  
"Anyway," Draco said brightly trying to snap out of those morose thoughts, "what does it matter now? She is well and truly taken."  
Blaise still remained silent, if you only knew, Blaise thought to himself.  
They spent a relaxed hour after this discussing their children, their holiday plans and quidditch but by the end of their chat the beginnings of a cunning little plan had started to form in Blaise’s mind. He was a Slytherin after all! His friend had been alone too long and he deserved to have some happiness and Blaise was going to give him a bit of a nudge to get him there.

After her meeting with Blaise Zabini Hermione went home to have perhaps the most difficult conversation of her life. She had to plan carefully, she knew that Ron would explode. She was prepared to use a full body bind spell on him if she had to and a silencing spell to make him listen. A silencing charm on the house might also be an idea, she belatedly decided. The silencing charm in place she sat down in her chair by the fire place and waited.

Ron stepped out of the floo at 5.30pm as always but what was unusually was today his wife was waiting for him.  
"Ron we need to talk," she began.  
The conversation had not gone as Hermione had expected. Yes, he had ranted, yes he had been angry and yes he had accused her of adultery. All this she had been prepared for. What she had not been prepared for were the tears and the look of utter betrayal on Ron's face. He had begged for another chance but he didn't realise he had already had all the chances she could give him.  
In the end Hermione forced herself to be cruel.  
"Ron, I don't love you anymore," she had said it so quietly but it was as if she had slapped him. She didn't think she would ever forget that look on his face. She knew she had destroyed him.  
"I will tell the children and we will need to make other arrangements for the holidays, clearly I can't come with you to the Burrows." She continued all business and matter of fact.  
Ron finally managed to speak, "Hermione," he said in desperation.  
"I'm sorry Ron," with that simple statement she walked away, walked out of the life she had had for 21 years.

Hermione had owled Hogwarts for permission to meet her children. The elderly headmistress looked sadly at her ex-pupil as she explained the purpose of her visit and that her children may need some tender loving care.  
It was just before lunch when the two Weasley siblings were called out of class to go to the headmistress' office.  
"Mum!" Hugo exploded clearly thrilled to see her and not suspecting anything untoward. Rose on the other hand could read the tension in her mother's face and knew something was wrong.  
"Mum what is it?"  
"Sit down," Hermione began sombrely as McGonagall slipped silently from the room leaving the family some privacy.  
"You know that your father and I love you both very much and that will never change but, " Hermione paused to take a deep breath, "I don't love your father anymore and we are going to separate pending a divorce."  
"What?' Shouted Hugo incredulous.  
"I'm sorry Hugo, your father and I are deeply unhappy together and we need to move on."  
"Is there someone else mum?" Rose asked quietly.  
Why did everyone keep asking her that? Hermione wondered.  
"No Rose there isn’t anyone else your father and I have simply grown apart."  
Hugo looked like he might have a Ron scale rant for a moment but he was a little more rational than his father in these situations. He quickly calmed.  
"Mum, I'm so sorry you have been unhappy," Hugo told her.  
Hermione wanted to weep, her dear sweet boy, even in this situation he would not think of himself. She didn't reply she merely pulled him into a hug.  
"I'm sorry too Hugo, truly I am, I wish it could be different but your father and I can't keep making each other miserable like this."  
Rose had said nothing but she chose this moment to step forward and hug her mother too.  
"I understand Mum," Rose said as she buried her head into her mother's shoulder. Hermione couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Whatever else Ron and she had done they had raised two beautiful children.  
"Now," Hermione said breaking away from them and wiping a tear from her eye, "I want you to go back to class and be brave, you can owl me at any time night or day and remember your father is at home and your grandparents will still be happy for you to join them for the Christmas break ok?"  
"Ok," both her children said in unison as she ushered them out of the Head’s study.  
Hermione stayed to thank her former professor and then made her way to Hogsmead so she could apparate to her parent's home.


	6. Brightest Witch of her age.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione reflects on how her life might have been different had she been a Slytherin.

Hermione was dreading telling her parents but they were surprisingly understanding. When they were alone her mother confessed that the match between her daughter and Ron had always concerned her.  
"Why?' Hermione had asked genuinely amazed.  
"Oh, don't get me wrong dear Ron was a sweet boy and I never had any doubt that he would ever harm you but there was always, I felt, something lacking?"  
"What do you mean?" Hermione was curious now.  
"True soul mates have an intellectual bond that you and Ron lacked, a bond that makes the relationship endure. He is not your intellectual equal Hermione and I think you both knew that really."  
Hermione sighed.  
"Brightest witch of my generation," she scoffed.  
"Don't say it like that dear it is something to be proud of," her mother chastised her.  
"I know mother but I sometimes think my life would have been much easier if I had been an average student."  
"May be, may be you wouldn't have survived," Her mother responded.  
"True," Hermione conceded.  
"Was there ever anyone who was your equal?" Jean Granger asked her daughter "What about the Longbottom boy?"  
"Neville?" Hermione smiled as she remembered her childhood friend. "He was a genius at herbology but otherwise he couldn't touch me, in fact he was a bit of a menace in potions". Hermione chuckled to herself as she recalled how Snape would reduce Neville to a quivering mess which was only made worse by the interference of Malfoy.  
"Malfoy," she said out loud.  
"What was that dear?" Her mother questioned not having quite caught what she had said.  
"Oh nothing really there was one boy who always came second to me, I am sure he was extremely clever but that was never possible," Hermione smiled at her mother ruefully.  
"Why was that dear?" Jean Granger asked genuinely curious.  
Hermione had never told her parents all about the war but they knew that some of her school friends had taken sides with Voldemort and against Harry.  
"He was on the wrong side Mum, although looking back I don't believe he ever really had a chance to make another choice."  
There was a hint of regret in her voice and she knew her mother had noticed it but Hermione determined she would say no more. This was Scorpius' father and she would not have her parents misjudge the boy, as her husband had done, based on his father's past.

Hermione asked to stay the night with her parents. Of course they were happy to have her as long as she wanted and she spent the night in her childhood room. There were still momentous of her time at Hogwarts, her Gryffindor scarf lay across the back of her bedroom chair where she had left it decades ago. It was funny how that house had come to define her. Yet she knew the sorting hat had considered placing her in both Slytherin and Ravenclaw but ultimately it had chosen Gryffindor because that was where Hermione wanted to be.

I could have been in the same house as Malfoy; would he have made my life hell?' She wondered. Slytherins were supposed to be loyal to each other weren't they may be he would have protected her? She had never thought about this before. Would their intellects have challenged each other or would they have completed each other? Hermione gave a smirk that any Slytherin would have been proud of as she thought of the mischief that she and Draco Malfoy might have achieved together had they had the chance. If there had been no blood prejudice, she mused, things might have been very different.

She thought then of the last time she had seen Malfoy on the platform at Kings Cross. He had seemed so entirely alone. She couldn't help but reflect that Malfoy's life would have been entirely different too had it not been for blood prejudice. Poor man, she thought, to go through all of that and to come out the other side with so little of true value. He may have enough wealth to last a few lifetimes but in all other respect Draco Malfoy was a poor man. How precious his son must be to him. Scorpius must be the only light in Draco Malfoy's darkness. She would never have thought that she could pity Malfoy and she knew he would hate her pity, but she pitied him none the less.


	7. A Rose at the Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose goes to Malfoy Manor to meet Draco Malfoy and is pleasantly surprised.

Rose had been distraught when she met up with Scorpius later that day. "Rose what is it?' He asked, he knew immediately that something was wrong. "My parents," she began. Scorpius felt a tide of rising panic at the look on Rose's face. "Rosie, what's happened?" he asked cautiously dreading the answer. "They are divorcing," she sobbed. Scorpius was almost relieved, he thought they were dead, but he knew none the less that Rose was devastated and he needed to be there for her. He said nothing he just held her knowing that the most important thing he could do was to be there for her. He stayed with her through the night at some point they must have fallen asleep in front of the fire in the common room. Scorpius woke with a crick in his neck. It was Friday morning and his father was expecting him home for the weekend. He hated letting his father down. He knew that his father had given everything for him but he couldn't leave Rose. He would promise to make it up to his father and go next weekend. He quickly sent his father an owl before rushing off to join Rose for breakfast.

Draco was shocked when he read Scorpius' letter the Weasleys were divorcing? But he also couldn't disguise his disappointment. He supposed he was an 'old' man now who must live vicariously through his son. Perhaps, Draco thought, Scorpius could bring the girl here he would like to get to know her better. Much as Draco enjoyed his quiet life he missed having some company, he was in truth lonely. With due haste he wrote back to Scorpius simply: Scorpius, Bring Rose here, the change of scene will be a distraction and I would love to meet her properly. Scorpius joined Rose for breakfast. The house tables had long since gone and, although the houses themselves remained, students freely mingled with each other at meal times. He had just begun a second round of wholemeal toast when he was amazed to see his father's rather regal owl arrive. It was unusual for him to receive his father's reply so promptly. He read the note and sighed. He knew his father was terribly lonely and he felt honour bound to try to persuade Rose to go with him to Malfoy Manor. She was reluctant; Rose’s father had persuaded her that his father was some kind ogre. "Rose I don't want to leave him alone but I don't want to leave you either," Scorpius pleaded, "Trust me he isn't as bad as people say." Rose didn't say anything. "Please Rose all I ask is that you make your own judgement." "Alright," she conceded. "Really?" Scorpius beamed and Rose realised that whatever her own problems it was worth it to see the joy on Scorpius' face at that moment. "Really, go reply to your Dad now". Scorpius was still grinning when he met her in charms later. I only hope you are still grinning after the weekend, Rose thought to herself. Rose need not have worried. She returned to Hogwarts after their weekend at Malfoy Manor much more cheerful than she had left. Rose was enchanted by the Manor itself. Scorpius had revelled in showing her around and then there was Mr Malfoy. She had been so afraid of him but she had been blown away by him. Whilst it helped that he looked like his son, especially when he smiled, she found him charming, cultured, witty and intelligent. There was only one problem, the elephant in the room, her father. In the end Mr Malfoy was just honest. "I did some terrible things to your mother and father in my youth, things which I deeply regret and for which your father can't forgive me Rose." "And my mother?" Rose asked. The older Malfoy took so long to reply she almost thought he hadn't heard. "I live in hope that your mother will forgive me one day," he finally responded. He had a strange faraway look on his face. Rose was puzzled by this. When they were finally together again Rose asked Scorpius a question that took him by surprise but also got him thinking. "Scorpius, did your father and my mother ever, well you know?" Scorpius was stunned by her question. "No...well... I don't think so anyway, what made you ask?" "He took so long to tell me that he hoped she would forgive him and then looked so wistful and I can't help but think that of all the students who were at Hogwarts when my mother was there your father might have been the only one who could come near to challenging her intellectually." She said without pause and somewhat breathlessly, as if she knew it was a stupid idea. "I really don't know Rose he's so very private he barely shares his feelings with his family," Scorpius replied. “You know my mother defended him when my father tried to stop me from seeing you." "Really?" Scorpius seemed amazed by this revelation. "May be I'm reading too much into this mother is unfailingly fair," Rose said, apparently dismissing the whole idea. "May be," Scorpius responded. They discussed it no further each deep in their own thoughts. Both thinking the same, could there really have been something between their parents?


	8. Christmas Cheer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is persuaded to visit Malfoy Manor.

Shopping in Diagon Ally that year was a little depressing. The Christmas decorations were marvellous, as always, but it was the fact that everyone else was enjoying themselves with their preparations whilst Hermione had little preparation to do that dampened her cheer. She was meeting Andromeda later and she had a few gifts to purchase but she missed buying the decorations for the tree. Every year she had chosen a new theme and bought a few decorations. She and the children would dress the tree transfiguring any decorations that didn't quite fit. It had become a family tradition and she would miss that this year.

She spotted Andromeda and she was just about to rush over to her when she saw the blond head of the man her friend was talking to. At first she thought it was Scorpius but then she realised; Scorpius was still at Hogwarts which could only mean one thing, Andromeda was talking to her Nephew.

Hermione couldn't face Malfoy she wasn't sure if he knew she and Ron had broken up and she wasn't sure how he would behave towards her. Her Gryffindor courage deserted her and she ducked into the door way of Flourish and Bolts before either of them could see her. What she didn't realise was that Draco had seen her.

"Seasons greetings aunt," Draco had greeted Andromeda cheerfully.

"Oh, Draco how lovely to see you?"

Andromeda was genuinely fond of her nephew and terrible proud of him. He had matured into a wonderful man, although she was aware that few saw this or would even acknowledge it. It gave Andromeda pleasure that, despite all that had happened to him in his youth, he had grown into such a wonderful man.

"What are you doing here?"he asked as he greeted his aunt with a small kiss on her cheek.

"I'm meeting Hermione for a little chat and some Christmas shopping, you do recall Hermione don't you?"

"Yes of course aunt, she is rather famous," Draco replied with an indulgent smile.

"Oh yes," his aunt said absent minded, "she should be here any moment would you care to join us?

Draco was about to agree when he saw Hermione approaching. He was just about to tell his aunt she was here when Granger began to display the most unusual behaviour. She appeared to be avoiding someone. Draco looked around to see who it might be. Then the sinking realisation hit him, that she was probably avoiding him.

"Another time aunt, I have a lot to do," he bowed his head and walked away a clear sign that he would brook no argument.

Andromeda sighed, she had hoped after all these years that her favourite nephew and one of her oldest friends might be prepared to forgive and forget.

As she watch him walk away she felt sad. He was so clearly lonely, but he was still too proud and stubborn to admit it. As she considered her nephew Hermione appeared suspiciously quickly Andromeda had a sneaky feeling the younger women had been hiding.

She greeted the younger witch and after some shopping they retired to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink.

"You were hiding weren't you?" Andromeda challenged her.

Hermione looked guilty that she had been caught out.

"You don't think he noticed do you?"

Andromeda didn't answer just shrugging her shoulders.

"You should give him a second chance Hermione," Andromeda insisted, "he really is not a bad man and I worry for him."

"Why?" Hermione asked curiously

"Nothing, forget I said anything, I'm just a sentimental old women who wants to see her only nephew happy." Andromeda replied before promptly changing the subject.

Hermione sighed, 'Happiness, when was the last time she had truly felt it?' She wondered.

The weeks to the Christmas break had gone so quickly and it seemed no time at all before Hermione was waiting for Rose on platform 9 3/4. Rose had caused a bit of a rumpus in the lead up to Christmas when she decided that she wouldn't chose between either of her parents but would instead spend Christmas with Scorpius at Malfoy Manor. Rose would come with Hermione to her maternal grandparents in the run up to Christmas then after New Year she would join her father and paternal grandparents. It was not how Hermione had expected to spend Christmas, alone with her parents. Hugo, taking a lead from his sister, had decided to join the Potter's for Christmas.

Still Hermione determined not to judge her daughter or son. Christmas would be a difficult time for them all this year. As she waited for the Express to arrive she stood quietly away from the crowd of Weasleys who she had always waited with in the past. They had not shunned her, in fact Molly Weasley had made it clear that, no matter what, Hermione would always be like a daughter to her and she was always welcome at the Burrows. It was more that Hermione herself felt awkward and she wanted to give Ron some space.

She was broken away from her thoughts by the whistle of the Hogwarts' Express as it approached the station. She was so distracted by this that she had not noticed the blond man who had approached her and she was unaware that he was there until his voice startled her.

"How are you Hermione?" He asked politely looking her up and down.

Hermione blushed at his appraising look.

"Oh muggle clothes," she motioned to herself apologetically, " Rose and I are going to my parents," Hermione explained, although why she needed to explain to him she wasn't sure.

"Yes of course," there were a few minutes of awkward silence before he continued.

" It is very generous of you to allow Rose to stay with us for Christmas."

"It was what she wanted," Hermione said in a tone of resignation.

"But clearly not what you wanted?" He commented not unkindly.

"No, but I have to recognise now that Rose is grown up and she can make her own decisions. Scorpius is clearly very important to her. But I will miss her."

"Yes," Draco said simply, "perhaps you would like to join us for dinner on Christmas Eve?"

"I..." 

He interrupted before Hermione could continue;" I know you don't have the best memories of Malfoy Manor but you wouldn't recognise the place and I can assure you the food is excellent."

There was almost a tone of desperation in his words and she was almost reluctant to disappointment him but before she was able to decline Rose and Scorpius joined them.

"Where is the food excellent?" Scorpius enquired.

"I was just inviting Hermione to join us for dinner on Christmas Eve," Malfoy stated.

" Oh, yes Mum, please come it would be lovely to have you there too," Rose pleaded.

"Oh no I couldn't possibly impose on Mr Malfoy," Hermione dissembled.

"It would be no imposition the house elves always make more than enough." Draco reassured her.

"Please Mum," Rose begged.

Hermione was torn between her desire to please her daughter and her fear of Malfoy Manor.

"Alright," she said a little reluctantly

Draco actually smiled, " I will owl you," he said turning to leave before adding as a after thought.

" The dress code is formal!"

'Yes of course it is!' Hermione thought.


	9. Too Modest

Draco didn't know why he had done it. His mind had wondered when he had seen her standing there alone, his eyes had drifted across her figure. He was admiring the fact that she was still a beautiful women but she had totally misconstrued his actions taking his admiring glances for a critical appraisal of her attire, he almost laughed.

Then when she had told him she wasn't looking forward to Christmas he had to open his big mouth and ask her to dinner. "What was I think?" He wanted to bang his head on the wall.

"Pinkie," he called. There was a pop as the house elf appeared.

"You will need to set an extra place for Christmas Eve we have an extra guest."

"Yes master," the little house elf fidgeted.

"That will be all Pinkie."

The house elf didn't move.

"What is it?" Draco asked with a due sense of dread.

"Can Pinkie ask if the guest is a lady?"

Draco sighed, "Yes Pinkie the guest is a lady and no we are not in a relationship it is Miss Rose's mother."

The little elf looked disappointed then piped up, " Is she beautiful like Miss Rose?"

"Pinkie!' Draco said in exasperation.

Pinkie continued to look at him expectantly.

"Yes she is beautiful like Miss Rose," he conceded with a sigh.

Pinkie smiled then disappeared.

Draco just shock his head.

As always Hermione's parents were delighted to see her and Rose and the three generations enjoyed their time together but it was over all too soon. Malfoy's owl arrived the day before Rose left for Malfoy Manor. Inviting Hermione cordially to dinner on Christmas Eve at 7.00pm. With a reminder that the dress code was formal.

Rose sniggered at that reminder.

"I think that Mr Malfoy believes that you don't know how to dress mother." Rose chortled.

"Then I will have to prove him wrong," Hermione said with an air of determination.

Rose grabbed her mother's hand.

"What are you doing Rose?" Hermione demanded.

"You're going to knock Mr Malfoy dead."

"Really I don't think that is appropriate," Hermione protested.

Rose said nothing but she would not be swayed.

"Stubborn child," Hermione protested.

In Hermione's room her daughter began to riffle through her mother's wardrobe. Discarding items as 'too black', 'too modest', 'too ugly', 'too frumpy' before; "Ha perfect".

"I can't wear that!" Hermione complained.

"Why not?" Rose asked.

"Malfoy will think I'm after his money."

Rose laughed,"Is that the best excuse you can manage Mum?"

"I will look like a flirt and besides it's 'too red'." Hermione complained using air quotes.

"You are right about the red," said Rose taking out her wand and transfiguring the dress to an emerald green, " but you wouldn't know how to flirt mother, Mr Malfoy knows you are a lady, but does he know you are a beautiful lady?" Rose wiggled her eyebrows mischievously.

"I don't know where you get your delusions from girl," Hermione said but now she was laughing too. " I could wear an old coal sack and Draco Malfoy wouldn't even notice".

"Then you have nothing to fear by wearing this," Rose said triumphantly.

"Don't get smart with me Rose Weasley."

"Promise me you will wear it Mum," Rose pleaded.

"Alright!" Hermione conceded in defeat.

"And the Emeralds," Rose insisted.

The emeralds were their one true family heirloom. The diamond and emerald collar was an heirloom from her mother's side of the family. One of her great, great, grand parents had been a Russian immigrant and the emeralds were an incredibly valuable piece styled by Karl Faberge in c.1885.

"The Emeralds?" Hermione questioned incredulously.

"Well that way at least Mr Malfoy won't think you are after his money," Rose asserted.

Hermione scoffed "I'ill think about it and only if I have time to collect them from the bank."

The Emerald's had been transferred to Gringott's some years ago as it was deemed to be more secure than a muggle bank. Hermione wondered what she was doing as she stood waiting to get access to her vault. "What the hell," she decided, "when else will I get to wear them".

"Wow!" said Mr Granger as Hermione made an appearance in her parents' lounge, "some one call the fire brigade".

"Dad, really!" Hermione exclaimed with an air of disapproval.

"I'm an old man my dear but even I can recognise that my daughter is very beautiful."

"Thank you Dad," she said bending down to kiss him on the cheek.

"Bye Mum," she called out as she stepped into the fire place taking a deep breath and a handful of floo powder she called out "Malfoy Manor".

When she arrived she was met by one of the family house elves.

"If you will come this way Mrs Weasley I will announce you."

"Ms Granger," Hermione corrected, since her separation from Ron, Hermione had reverted to her Maiden name.

"Of course Madam, this way please".

Although Hermione remembered little of the interior of the Manor what she did recall was not the light airy spaces that she saw now. It was elegant and bright. A large exquisitely decorated Christmas tree stood to the right of the large sweeping marble staircase. Tiny angels fluttered in the branches holding miniature candles which made the tree shimmer. Scaled down white peacocks fanned their feathers in display as they stood boldly atop the pine trees fronds. The whole thing sparkled with freshly fallen snow which was charmed not to melt. The effect was beautiful and of course the height of good taste.

The house elf opened a set of double doors and announced Hermione.

"Ms Granger," he announced.

Everyone turned and Hermione prepared herself for the Malfoy's scrutiny. She had not known that Narcissa would be there too. Scorpius smiled widely at her and her daughter wiggled her eyebrows. Narcissa appraised her coolly but she seemed to pass muster. Draco was not looking at her he seemed intent on fusing over the dinner wines.

It fell to Narcissa to break the ice.

"Good evening Ms Granger how pleasant to meet you formally," Narcissa greeted.

"Mum you look wonderful," Rose interrupted.

Hermione smiled broadly at her daughter, as she did Draco final turned to look at her.


	10. Romanov Jewels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione joins the Malfoy's for dinner.

Draco's throat suddenly went dry he couldn't find his voice to greet her. He had never expected this. She wore an emerald green satin gown which was draped across her chest but skimmed her hips and thighs as she moved. The gown was matched with some of the most impressive emeralds and diamonds even Draco had seen and he was somewhat curious to know where she had acquired them.

Finally recalling himself and remembering his manners he walked forward to greet her. Taking her proffered hand he brought it to his lips but did not actually touch his lips to her hand.

"Good evening Hermione, it is lovely of you to join us. Might I add you look magnificent in green, you really should have been a Slytherin," he said a small characteristic smirk spreading across his lips.

"I will take that as a compliment," she responded with no edge to her voice.

"It was intended as one," he smiled this time, a real smile, something that she had so rarely ever seen him do.

He took her elbow and led her further into the room.

"We are using the smaller dinning room this evening as we are such a small party," he told her conversationally, " besides," he added, "I thought you would be more comfortable there."

He didn't have to say it she knew what he meant her last visit to the manors' formal dinning room had not been a pleasant one. It was very considerate of him to do this.

"Thank you," she said very quietly.

"No, thank you for coming, it means a lot to all of us."

When dinner was served Hermione found herself seated between Draco and Scorpius and opposite Narcissa.

"Rose tells me your parents were tooth healers," Narcissa began conversationally.

"Dentists mother," Draco corrected. Hermione was a little surprised he knew this term.

"Yes they were but they are retired now," Hermione replied.

"And is this generally seen as a well paid occupation," Narcissa continued to question her.

"Quite well but they were not Billionaires Mrs Malfoy."

"Oh please call me Narcissa," the Malfoy matriarch requested.

"Oh course, please call me Hermione," said Hermione returning the social compliment.

"Forgive me if this is crass of me Hermione but I am a little bit at a loss as to where a muggleborn witch would get such gems if her parents were only modestly rich, was it a gift from an admirer?" Narcissa enquired.

"Mother," Draco hissed under his breath.

Rose intervened in the conversation before things got fraught.

"Have you ever heard of the Romanovs Mrs Malfoy?" Rose began.

"Hmm the name sounds familiar," Narcissa conceded.

"Russian royalty mother," Draco prompted her, again Hermione was amazed he knew, the Draco Malfoy she remembered knew nothing of the muggle world.

"My great, great, great grand mother was a Romanov, and these are family jewels."

"So are you telling me my dear that you and your mother are descendants of muggle royalty?" Narcissa enquired her eyebrows raised.

"I don't think we look at ourselves that way," Rose laughed, " but I suppose when you put it that way then yes".

"So that necklace is Faberge?" Draco said in a tone of surprise.

"You know the work of Karl Faberge?" Hermione asked him.

"Yes, if we have time later, I will show you one of his Easter eggs we have one in our collection," He told her. Why am I not surprised? Hermione silently intoned.

The rest of the meal passed in convivial conversation. Narcissa was pleasant and Draco was both attentive and surprisingly witty. Hermione realised as she listened to him tell a rather amusing story that she did not really know this man at all. As she reassessed him she realised that he was; well informed,educated, intelligent, considerate and kind. She understood now why Scorpius was as he was because his father had matured into a very impressive man. Realising this Hermione asked herself the question again. "Why had he never remarried?".

When the meal was over Draco and Scorpius withdrew to leave the ladies to their coffee, "Somethings didn't change" Hermione thought, pureblood etiquette still seemed rooted in the 19th century.

Draco smiled as he left the room musing that even though the women in the room were from different generations he had rarely seen so much beauty in one place. His mother was still a beautiful women with the elegance of her maturity, Rose had all the radiance of youth and Hermione was just stunning, confident in her own self and sensuality.

When the men had gone Rose excused herself to go and refresh her toilette leaving Narcissa to question Hermione, again.

"So Hermione, I understand that you and your husband are separated, is there any chance of reconciliation?" Narcissa began.

"None, I have spoken to my lawyers about a divorce. I have, apparently, to drive my husband to adultery," Hermione stated clear distaste in her tone.

"So there is another man?" Narcissa assumed.

"Merlin no, why does everyone keep asking me this?" Hermione said in frustration.

"I suppose my dear because you are a very beautiful women," Narcissa told her as if that was entirely too obvious.

As Rose entered the two older women took this as a cue to change the subject both understanding that it would not be an appropriate topic of conversation in front of the younger women.

"Do you play Hermione?" Narcissa asked.

"Oh not well, I had a few piano lessons as a child but they never amounted to anything," Hermione admitted honestly.

"It may seem old fashioned now," Narcissa said as she began her reminiscences, " but when I was a child a young women was expected to both play and sing as two of her accomplishments."

"Mum does sing," Rose stated with some element of pride in her voice.

Choosing to ignore her daughter Hermione turned to ask.

"So you play well Narcissa?"

"Well enough," the older witch replied "but not so well as Draco."

Narcissa said this with a mother's pride. Hermione was intrigued she couldn't say she was surprised he played but Narcissa seemed to hint he was very accomplished. She wondered if she might get to hear him play.

"So what other lessons do muggle girls take?" The Malfoy Matriarch enquired a genuine look of interest on her face.

"It depends on their interests and talents," Hermione explained, "there are no real expectations for instance I studied dance but some of my friends did nothing."

"So you dance?"

"Well enough," Hermione conceded.

"Interesting," Narcissa concluded.

It was at this point that the Malfoy men rejoined them.

"Draco, Hermione tells me she trained to dance as a child I'm sure she has so little opportunity to dance perhaps you could invite her to our New Years' Eve Ball?" Narcissa suggested.

The Malfoy's had given a charity ball for New Year every year since Hermione could recall but she had never before received an invite. She had always supposed it was because of her blood status or her friendship with Harry or even her poor relationship with Draco. Narcissa' skills as a hostess were legendary indeed it was for this solely purpose, Hermione discovered later, that Narcissa had returned from her home in France. Hermione thought that a party thrown by her would be worth seeing but she had nothing to wear. She had already promised the emeralds to Rose and she had nothing else that would pass muster. She didn't want Draco to be embarrassed into inviting her so she preempted his invite by declining.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly. I don't have anything to wear and I've already promised the family jewels to Rose." Hermione said honestly.

Draco said nothing.

"Oh my dear you can't allow the matter of a few gems to deter you," Narcissa insisted, "besides I'm sure we have something we could lend you?" She made this latter comment with a pointed look at her son.

"I couldn't wear Malfoy jewels, if anyone recognised them...I am separated from my husband it might cause unpleasant gossip," Hermione protested a little too quickly, a hint of panic in her tone.

"Hermione does have a point grandmother," Scorpius chipped in.

Draco had still said nothing he seemed to be considering something.

"We have other jewels," he suddenly announced, "investment pieces by muggle jewellers like Choppard and Bulgari they have never been warn by anyone. I would be more than happy for you to have the loan of one of those."

"Oh I couldn't," Hermione insisted.

"Why not?" He asked very quietly.

Hermione had no answer to that. He had made her feel as if she had thrown kindness in his face. She was saved from her awkwardness by her daughter.

"Oh please come mum, you will enjoy it."

Hermione felt she had no choice.

"Alright I would love to attended, thank you." She agreed.

"Good, when you know what you are wearing if you owl Draco he will ensure you have some suitable jewellery to wear," Narcissa confirmed.

Again Draco said nothing, his face was closed Hermione had no idea if he was pleased or angry.

"Draco"

"Yes mother," he responded wearily.

"I was telling Hermione how well you played won't you play something for us."

"I'm sure she doesn't wish to hear me play," he said clear signs of reluctance in his voice.

Hermione dearly wanted to hear him play but she could tell he didn't really want to so she aimed to give him a get out.

"I'm afraid your efforts would be wasted on me Draco I really don't have much of an ear for piano music."

He made eye contact with her showing that he knew she had understood his reluctance. He mouthed, "thank you," but Narcissa had not yet given up on some entertainment.

"Well this will never do we must have some entertainment, Hermione perhaps you can sing for us?" Hermione groaned inwardly.

"It's been a while Narcissa," Hermione said clearly also reluctant.

"Oh nonsense," Narcissa insisted.

"I would love to hear you sing again Mum, I haven't heard you for so long." Rose said looking hopeful.

"No Rose," Hermione pleaded.

"Mum," Rose asked again.

Draco had made his way over to the grand piano that stood at the far end of the room in front of a large bay window. It was lit by a standard candelabra the light of which caught the silver standards in Draco's hair as he sat on the piano stool. He motioned for her to join him.

"What would you like me to play?" He asked her quietly.

Hermione thought for a moment she couldn't sing a love song not here that gave her so few choices from her repertoire. As Hermione thought Rose made another request.

"Oh Mio Babbino Caro," Rose requested, "please Mum".

Hermione nodded turning to Draco.

"Do you know Puccini?"

He nodded and began the introduction without more ado.

Draco watched her intently as she sang, she was a true artist, she sang with passion carrying the listener with her. It was very impressive, very impressive indeed.

Hermione became aware of his scrutiny and a blush slowly rose up her throat to her face. When she had finished she wanted nothing more than a little air.

Scorpius, Rose and Narcissa all praised her most highly but she wanted nothing more than to leave the room.

"I need some air," she said weakly as she fled the room.

She found her way onto a balcony. It took a few moments for her to calm herself. The first thing she became aware of was the sky. Away from the city and its light pollution the stars were so much brighter. The constellations were clear she could almost reach up and touch the stars. She reached up towards the constellation Draco as if to pinch the cheeks of the dragon. She had not heard him enter the balcony behind her until he spoke.

"Though my soul may set in darkness

It will rise in perfect light

I have loved the stars too fondly

To be fearful of the night."

"Muggle poetry?" Hermione questioned.

He smiled weakly but he didn't answer.

"I'm sorry about my mother, she means no ill," he said instead.

"It's alright," she reassured him, "as Rose said it has been a long time".

"We were all impressed."

"Thank you," she responded before continuing, "you know I would have liked to hear you play?"

"What would you have me play?" He questioned.

"Debussy, Clare du Lune, in honour of the moonlight," she suggested.

"Very well," he held out his army for her to escort her back inside.

Draco sat her down and went back towards the piano. He gave no explanation, no introduction he just played. It was divine. She watch the intensity in his eyes as he played, the delicacy with which his long slender fingers caressed the piano's keys. He did not play the piano he touch it in adoration and its strings sang in response to his touch. The light and the shade, the piano and the forte all where there at the hands of a master. Carried away as the music soared she could not help put imagine what it would be like to be caressed by those hands.

"If you had been any other man Draco Malfoy I would have fallen in love with you there and then," she thought to herself when she finally made it home that night. She realised too that Draco Malfoy was even more of an enigma than he had been before.

"Mother," he began immediately their guest had flooed away from the manor, " what were you thinking ? Could you have made her feel more uncomfortable".

"Oh Draco dear, don't be like that, she may soon be very closely linked to this family. I only wanted to know a little more about her," Narcissa defended.

"She is just about the most famous witch in Wizarding England mother, I doubt there is anything we don't know about her!" He said in exasperation.

"Oh don't be dense Draco," she said crossly, "you don't really know the women at all, did you know she could sing like that? Did you expect her to divorce Weasley? Did you know she was a decedent of muggle royalty? I found her fascinating. I rather liked her," the Malfoy Matriarch concluded emphatically.

"Then perhaps you will refrain from torturing her if she comes again!" Draco replied. Narcissa blanched.

" I didn't mean... " Draco began an apology realising too late what he had said.

"I know, it is just I don't think I will ever forget what Bellatrix did to her," Narcissa shook her head.

"I don't think I will ever forget that I did nothing to help her." Draco said sadly before he walked away.

"Goodnight mother."

Narcissa looked at his back knowingly.

"Goodnight Draco".


	11. The Tears of the Pheonix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione finds that buying a ball gown is more challenging than she expected.

As soon as the stores were open again after Christmas Hermione hit them on the hunt for an elegant but modest ball gown. Black, long lace or chiffon sleeves, modest neckline was what she thought. Unfortunately modest was not what the stores had to offer. After hours of looking she almost abandoned the whole idea. She was ready to send a letter of apology and decline her invite after all. She returned to Diagon Alley despondent. Muggle London had let her down. She didn't want to insult the Malfoys by declining their invite but she might have no choice. Hermione racked her brains mentally disregarding all the items in her wardrobe that may or may not have been suitable to be transfigured. She was so caught up in her thoughts she didn't see the other witch until she bumped into her.

"Sorry, oh Narcissa, lovely to see you again so soon," Hermione said.

"Shopping?" Narcissa enquired.

"Not with a great deal of success I'm afraid," Hermione told her rather dejectedly, "I'm looking for a ball gown but I can't find anything suitable."

"Have you tried Madame Malkins?" Narcissa enquired.

"No, it is rather expensive," Hermione winced at saying this to a Malfoy.

"Hmm, are you sure you can't afford it? It would be worth it I'm sure."

In truth Hermione was wealthy enough, she had received many rewards and valuable gifts after the Wizarding War and her job at the ministry was very well paid. It was just that she had become accustomed to being frugal. To placate Ron's need to be the man of the house and to provide for his family they had largely lived off his income only using her resources for special treats. So over the years Hermione had amassed quite a considerable fortune in her Gringott's vault. Of course she was sure it paled into insignificance when compared to the wealth of the Malfoys. She stood there for a moment longer contemplating Narcissa's question. To her the more important question was could she afford to cause offence to Scorpius' family. She found she didn't want to damage that burgeoning friendship, it was worth the expense for Rose.

"Well I suppose I could, it is for Rose after all," Hermione finally replied.

"I would love to help you choose, besides I have the inside line on what wouldn't clash with the decor and as a regular customer I can make sure you pay a realistic price," Narcissa offered.

Hermione really didn't want this, she was not in the mood for more of Narcissa's intrusive questions but she felt trapped.

"Thank you Narcissa that would be appreciated," she replied quietly.

The Narcissa that Hermione experienced that day was very different from the one she had experienced at the manor on Christmas Eve. She was kind, complementary and honest.

"No dear you really can't wear black, it makes your complexion look sallow. You should only ever wear black as a widow and then only ever once."

"What about red?" Narcissa suggested, "You are a former Gryffindor after all."

Hermione pulled a doubtful face red was always such an attention getter. Seeing her grimace Narcissa responded:

"I know you are thinking it will turn heads and you are too old for it."

Hermione smiled, the elder witch had read her mind.

"You are still a relatively young women," Narcissa concluded, "you have beautiful skin and a fine figure, why not enjoy that while you still can? And from what Rose tells me don't you have a husband to divorce?"

"I'm not sure that making a spectacular show of my assets is the best way to get him to divorce me Narcissa," she stated quite frankly.

"It will be if you attract someone else's attention," Narcissa raised her eyebrows in that characteristic Malfoy gesture Hermione associated with her son.

Hermione looked down at her feet.

"Have you changed your mind my dear?" The blonde haired witch enquired.

"About the ball?" Hermione was a little confused by this question.

"No Hermione about your husband" Narcissa clarified.

"No, I just don't like the thoughts of flirting and feigning a relationship with someone in order to get a divorce. Deceit never sits well with me."

"Well who says you will have to feign a relationship, there are a number of very eligible men who will attend this ball someone may sweep you off your feet." Narcissa actually laughed as she said this, it was a beautiful sound. Hermione thought it a pity Narcissa had not had occasion to laugh more often.

"Red it is then," Hermione stated agreeing to the earlier suggestion.

Finally the two witches narrowed down the choice to two ball gowns. The first, a dress with red lace sleeves and a plunging neckline. The second, a red velvet dress with a Bardot off the shoulder look. Both gowns showed off her slim waist and flared out into miles of tulle which Narcissa insisted were essential to dance at a classic ball. In truth Hermione was a little nervous about both options.

"I'm really not sure Narcissa," Hermione said appealing to the older women to help her make a decision.

"Hmm, I have an idea," Narcissa announced before disappearing to the front of the shop.

A few minutes later she returned a smile on her face.

"Madame Malkin has agreed to allow you to take both gowns. She is happy for you to return the one you do not wear."

"Oh!" said Hermione a little stunned, "Well I better go pay for them."

When Hermione had paid the two witches left the store. Hermione was very conscious that she had taken up much of Narcissa's time.

"Could I offer to buy you a coffee by means of thank you for your time?" Hermione asked.

"I would love to but I really do need to go, besides my dear there are rather a lot of paparazzi about and you should be careful who you are seen with."

Hermione began to protest that she didn't care who she was seen with but Narcissa simple told her that she should.

"Don't forget to owl Draco the colour of your gown," she told Hermione quietly so as not to be overheard before she bid her goodbye.

Half an hour later Hermione was back at her parent's house her feet were throbbing and she was desperate for a hot chocolate.

"I will make you one my dear," her mother insisted then you can show me what you bought.

"I need to send an owl quickly then I will be back down," Hermione informed her mother before rushing up the stairs.

She went up to her room and sat down at her desk and pulled out a piece of parchment. She sat frozen staring at the parchment. How should she address him? Malfoy seemed rude, Mr Malfoy too formal but could she really address him as Draco? Draco suggested a familiarity she wasn't sure he would be comfortable with. He had asked her to call him Draco. In the end she went with it:

Dear Draco

Thank you again for your kind invite and the offer of the loan of some of your jewels. I am writing to inform you that the gown I will be wearing is red. I know, ever the Gryffindor. Please also pass on my thanks to your mother for her kindness in assisting me in choosing a gown.

Hermione stalled again what salutation was appropriate? She couldn't sign it with love as was her usually custom with her friends, sincerely or faithfully that she used in her business correspondence seemed too stiff.

She tried fond regards, no she didn't want to use fond, then kindest regards that seemed some how impersonal. Highest regards, she thought about this, did she hold him in high regard? The more she thought about it the more she realised that she did. She admired how he had raised his son, how he had changed to be a gentler man. She wrote it quickly before she could change her mind,

With highest regards,

Hermione.

She signed it with a flourish and tied it to the leg of her owl instructing her little barn owl to wait for a reply and sent her on her way before she could change her mind.

Draco heard the tapping of the small barn owl on the library window. In truth he was hiding in the library from his mother's party preparations which, as always, were driving him to distraction. He tolerated it because he knew his mother adored playing the role of hostess and since she had retreated to France she had little opportunity to indulge. He enjoyed seeing her happy even if she drove him insane with her colour swatches and catering samples.

He got up to open the window to let the pretty little owl in. It flew in and politely extended its leg for him to untie the letter. It then stood to wait.

Draco sighed the owl was clearly expecting an immediate response. He absentmindedly stroked the owl as he broke the seal on the letter.

Dear Draco

Thank you again for your kind invite and the offer of the loan of some of your jewels. I am writing to inform you that the gown I will be wearing is red. I know ever the Gryffindor. Please also pass on my thanks to your mother for her kindness in assisting me in choosing a gown.

With highest regards,

Hermione.

He laughed to himself, he had never dreamt that he would ever find himself playing fairy godmother to Gryffindor's Princess. He was intrigued to read that his mother had help her select the gown. He expected it would be something both elegant and expensive. He would have to go to Gringott's to find something with rubies. Then he saw the salutation 'with highest regards' and his eyebrows shot up. He was amazed she held him in any regard at all a little pride washed through him then. "Did she mean it?" He wondered it wasn't a common salutation after all.

He sat down at his desk and took out a piece of parchment ready to reply:

Dear Hermione,

Thank you for your owl. I will visit Gringott's this afternoon to find suitable jewels. I will make them available for you to collect from the bank from tomorrow morning. The loan will require your magical signature. The jewels can be returned to my vaults at your convenience in the New Year. I trust you not to abscond with them in the mean time. My mother greatly enjoyed shopping with you, thank you, I hope she wasn't too difficult.

Most gratefully yours,

Draco

"So Granger," he said to himself as he tied the response to the little owls leg," You shall go to the ball."

The morning of New Year's Eve Hermione presented herself at Gringott's to collect the parcel Draco had left for her. She presented her credentials to the Goblin on the desk.

"One moment Ms Granger I will collect the package for you."

The Goblin quickly returned, he eyed her curiously as he asked for her signature. Hermione signed for the parcel then left immediately. Her previous break in to Gringott's had damaged the bank's reputation and although they continued to accept her as a client she doubted she was their most popular customer. Still Goblins were ever the greedy creature and she had sufficient in her vault to tempt them.

Immediately she was outside the bank she apparated home. She did not want to run the risk of anyone snatching the parcel. She knew that if this was a Malfoy investment piece it would be something it would stretch her finances to make reparation for if it were lost.

As she popped into her parents' living room her mother jumped.

"I do wish you wouldn't do that dear," her mother complained.

"I'm sorry mum but I didn't want to be caught in the open with this," she explained.

"Oh what is it dear?" Her mother enquired.

Hermione carefully unwrapped the plain brown paper parcel, she guessed the wrapping had been done deliberately to make the package inconspicuous, the wrapping revealed a deep green velvet box she opened the clasp. The box was lined with green satin the Malfoy family crest and motto 'Sanctimonia Vincet Semper' embossed in silver inside the lid. When Hermione saw the necklace her mouth fell open.

"What is it Hermione?" Her mother asked a look of concern in her voice.

"Wow!" said Hermione.

The box contained a necklace and matching earrings. It was made up of hundreds of pear shaped diamonds and cabochons rubies that hung in long stands from a collar. It looked like tear drops mingled with droplets of blood. There was a note inside. She recognised Draco's elegant hand as she opened the note.

Dear Hermione

I hope this piece is suitable it is by the muggle jewellers Cartier. The piece is named 'The Tears of the Phoenix' it seemed apt for you some how.

I look forward to seeing you wear it.

In anticipation,

Draco

Hermione smiled, it was thoughtful, she was after all a member of the Order of the Phoenix and if she had to discuss it with anyone the piece had a ready made link to her that would help her avoid any difficult questions.

She wanted to thank him. She couldn't be sure she would have the opportunity to thank him at the ball it may be too public, so she determined to send him an owl. Before she could she had to explain to her mother.

"It is just a loan piece mother for this evening and I have to return it to the bank afterwards."

"Who loaned it?"

Hermione saw no reasons to lie.

"Scorpius' Father."

"Oh I see, well it has decide one thing," her mother determined.

"Oh what is that?" Hermione questioned

"Well there is only one gown you can wear with that."

Hermione looked at the necklace with dismay. Her mother was correct she would have to wear the off the shoulder gown, she had been edging towards the gown with sleeves as being a little more modest. But she had to wear the necklace now and it would have to be the red velvet gown the shape of the necklace would not go with the red lace.

Hermione went up stairs to compose a note of thanks as she contemplated the red velvet gown.

Dear Draco

I was unsure if I would have the opportunity to speak to you this evening so I simply wanted to thank you. 'The Tears of the Phoenix' is perfect. What a thoughtful choice!

With much thanks

Hermione.


	12. New Year’s Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco have a shocking revelation during the Malfoy New Year Ball.

Hermione's preparations to attend a ball took rather longer than expected and without Ginny or Parvati to wrestle her hair into submission the elaborate up do she chose, to ensure the Phoenix tear chandelier earrings were on display, took longer than anticipated.

When finally she pulled on the red velvet gown she barely had time to put on her heels before she was due to floo to Malfoy Manor. Etiquette dictated precise times of arrival to avoid the floo system becoming congested. Hermione did not dare be late. She barely managed to bid her father good evening before she had the floo powder in her hand.

"Malfoy Manor," she announced before the floo whisked her off to her destination.

She stepped out of the floo to join the arriving guests as they waited to be greeted by the Malfoys.

Scorpius was the first to greet her with Rose on his arm.

"Wow, if I'm allowed to say so you look stunning," he commented quite honestly,

"Yes Mum," Rose chipped in, "you will not be short of dance partners this evening."

Hermione smiled but rolled her eyes as if to say don't be silly you two.

She moved along the line to be greeted by Draco.

"Ms Granger," he nodded.

"Mr Malfoy," she followed his lead of formality.

"So very nice of you to come. You look very well," he smirked Hermione picked up on the double entendre and laughed.

"Thank you," she responded and moved on to be greeted by Nacrissa.

"You look wonderful my dear, red really does suit you, most can't do it justice but you look magnificent. I do hope you get to dance. Enjoy the evening my dear." Narcissa gushed all this without pause for breath.

Hermione continued inside painfully aware of two things. Firstly that there were too many eyes upon her and secondly that the only people she knew were stood greeting the guests. She supposed she would have to just admire the decor until, at some point later, Rose and Scorpius would be free to talk with her.

She wondered towards the refreshments. There was a magnificent ice sculpture of the monarch of the glen as a centre piece. It was enchanted to paw the ground from time to time and above it there was gentle snow fall. It reminded her of Harry's petronius. She wondered for a moment what on earth she was doing here. She missed Harry and Ginny she would usually spend New Year's Eve with them but she remembered then that Ron would most likely be there and she could not be where he was at the moment.

As she reflected on this there was a light tap on her shoulder. "Luna!" Hermione exclaimed so pleased to see the former Ravenclaw.

"So lovely to see you Hermione," Luna greeted her, "You look amazing."

As she talked her husband came up to join them, two glasses in his hand.

'Here Hermione take mine I will get another in a moment, it is lovely to see you again".

"And you too Blaise," she said politely. Blaise looked every inch the handsome pureblood gentleman in his dress robes.

"Hermione, you mustn't look at my husband like that people will talk," Luna laughed.

Hermione was greatly embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry Luna."

"It's alright but I know my husband is not the only handsome gentleman here. Draco looks fine don't you think?" Luna suggested.

Hermione didn't even look at him, "Draco always looks fine," she said dismissively.

"Hmm!" said Luna.

Blaise sensed the need to change the subject.

"That is rather an impressive piece of jewellery you are wearing there Ms Granger, from an admirer?" Blaise raised a suggestive eyebrow.

"No, as you know I am a champion of all things muggle, it is a loan from a famous muggle jewellery designer, it is called 'The Tears of the Phoenix' it seemed to suit me some how".

"Indeed it does, it suits you," Blaise concluded. He seemed to be contemplating something but he said nothing.

Hermione had easy manners but the elite, mostly purebloods, who were attending this ball were all too well aware that she was not one of them. Other than Luna and Blaise she saw a few colleagues and Kingsley Shaklebolt, the Minister of Magic. She spoke to Kingsley for a while, he had been a little surprised to see her at the Malfoy ball but when she explained that Rose was dating Scorpius and that she had been invited to be with her daughter he seemed to accept this.

"Have you danced yet?" He asked her, " you do look like the belle of the ball it would be a crime for you not to," the ageing minster asked, "come along dance with me."

"I'd be delighted," Hermione said smiling at her old friend.

Kingsley whisked her around the dance floor energetically enough but after a couple of dances he was clearly flagging.

He seemed to catch someone's eye and beckoned to them.

"Malfoy, my dear man," he called, "please come and take my partner I fear I need a rest and there are so few I would trust her with."

Draco moved across the dance floor the perfect host ready to oblige.

"May I?" He cut in ever the gentleman.

"Of course," Hermione conceded without hesitation.

As he placed his hand on her waist the music and tempo changed.

"Ah I believe this is one of the songs Rose and Scorpius selected, would you prefer to sit it out?" He enquired.

"Oh it's a muggle artist, I don't think I can it is after all my place in life to champion all things muggle," she smiled.

He gave a small snort. She placed her hand on his shoulder as the artist cut in with the first lyrics.

"Lay down your arms,

I don't want to fight anymore,

Rough seas will be calm ..."

Hermione took his hand, it was the first time she thought she had ever touched him and the shock that hit them both almost made her stumble. She attempted to pull away she could feel his magic pulsing through her. But he wouldn't let go.

"Please you can't it would cause a scene," he begged her.

So she continued to dance with him although it felt like a thousand fingertips were caressing her it was incredibly arousing.

"Draco, she moaned breathlessly please get me out of here. If you don't want a scene I can't stand this," She struggled to say.

He didn't speak but she could tell from his eyes he was also struggling for control. His pupils were shot wide, so wide his eyes almost appeared black. His chest was heaving. He managed to waltz them out onto the balcony and she shot away from him like she had been electrified.

"What was that?" She asked completely unnerved.

"I don't know?" He said truthfully.

"You don't know, you almost had me orgasming at the mere touch of your hand and you don't know what caused it?" She demanded.

"No," he said trying to resist the urge to laugh.

"What's so funny?" She demanded still incensed.

"Oh I never believed I would live to see the day that I would hear you say that". Now he started to chortle.

"Malfoy!"

His laughter was so genuine she couldn't help but laugh with him.

"Draco," she laughed in exasperation at him.

"I'm sorry but you have to see the funny side and I promise I didn't do anything, besides thank Merlin for the folds of that gown otherwise I would have been exhibiting some very ungentlemanly conduct."

Hermione blushed then considered something for a moment.

"Draco do you ever recall having touched my skin before?"

"I don't think so. I am ashamed to say I would have most likely have tried to avoid touching you."

He thought for a moment.

"Although there was that time you slapped which was strangely pleasurable," he smirked.

"May I touch your hand again?" Hermione asked, "may be whatever it was has worn off?"

Immediately their finger tips touch Hermione took a sharp intake of breath. It was worse than the last time she felt compelled to seduce him. Draco faired little better he began to reel her in towards him.

It took every ounce of self control Hermione had ever had to utter the spell.

"Repello!" she managed and they were thrown violently apart. Hermione threw her head back panting, trying to regain her composure. Draco's hands were balled into fists as he dug his nails into his palms to try and get some control.

"Something is not right about this Draco, we shouldn't feel like this."

Draco ran his hands through his hair. Whilst it felt wonderful, the lust their contact created felt somehow unnatural.

"I agree," he finally managed, "it feels unnatural like someone has cursed us."

"We need to speak to a curse breaker," she said panicked.

Draco nodded, "I need to get through this evening first."

"Do you have any gloves?" Hermione asked.

"No, but I can get some in the meantime take my elbow I will escort you back to the refreshments. It will not seem untoward," he said.

Hermione nodded, "You might want to straighten your hair Draco, you do look a little like I have ravished you," she said with a cheeky smile.

Draco smoothed down his hair, " You look like I ought to ravish you. "

Draco was pleased to see that she blushed. He hid his smirk by looking away from her. He thought he might rather have liked to ravish her curse or not she looked utterly delicious.

Hermione looked at him out of the corner of her eye, he had a type of wolffish grin on his face that gave him that mischievous air that she had, in truth, always rather liked about him.

"Gods you're handsome," she thought to herself, "I'm not sure I would have even minded being ravished by you."

Strangely they both thought; " But I would rather do it on my own terms.”

"Are you enjoying the ball Hermione? Draco she doesn't have a drink are you neglecting her?" Narcissa demanded as Draco led Hermione back into the ballroom.

"Mother we were dancing, what can I get you Hermione?" He asked.

"I think just a butterbeer," she replied.

"Surely you will try some champagne it is an excellent vintage," Narcissa insisted.

"Ok, champagne," Hermione agreed.

"You know you look stunning, even Draco struggled to maintain his composure and only narrowly avoided gawping at you like a goldfish," Narcissa confided as Draco walked away towards the refreshments.

"Really?" Hermione said incredulously.

"Really, I think Draco has always secretly admired you," Narcissa continued.

"I can tell when he is fighting for composure, his jaw tightens, it is a subtle sign but if you know him you see it."

"Should you be giving such secrets away?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, I know you won't harm him," Narcissa said confidently.

"I don't know Narcissa there were times I could have happily hexed him into next week."

"But he's not a silly boy anymore and you are too kind to bare any ill will or act out of malice," The blonde women said.

Draco returned with the champagne handing her the glass he discreetly whispered in her ear: "wait a few minutes then slip away to join me in my study, we need to talk, third door on the left." He then walked away to continue to mingle with the guests.


	13. Malfoy’s Study

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione makes an unfortunate wrong turn on her way to Malfoy’s study.

Draco finally managed to slip away and made it to his study, she wasn't there. "Damn it Granger," he cursed to himself. Had she not been able to slip away or was she lost. A sudden dreadful thought crossed his mind, 'if she had gone the wrong way she would have ended up in the...oh no!'

Draco raced out of the study towards the Great Dinning Hall. He was right, there she stood as if prettified. "Of all the stupid things he could have done," he cursed to himself. This was the scene of her torture, he would never want her to relive that.

"Hermione," he coaxed gently.

Nothing, no reaction what so ever. He tried again.

"Hermione."

Still nothing, she seemed to have slipped into some kind of catatonic state.

"Merlin, Hermione," he shouted.

His raised voice snapped her back to reality. She turned, her face tear stained, her hand trembled slightly as she traced the area of her forearm where Bellatrix had inscribed 'mudblood' into her flesh. There was nothing to see there he supposed that she, like he himself, hid the shame branded on her flesh with a concealment charm. The difference was it was not her shame it was his own, his everlasting shame that he stood by and did nothing.

"Hermione I'm so sorry," in one sense it was an apology long overdue. He was sorry for what had happened to her, he was sorry he did so little to help her. In another sense he was sorry that he had been so thoughtless this evening. It was so easy to get lost in Malfoy Manor and he had been careless of his guest's safety.

She said nothing but her tear filled eyes met his. There was recognition, "thank Merlin," Draco was relieved .

"Draco I'm sorry I got lost."

He couldn't bear it, he couldn't bear that she would apologise to him, here of all places.

"Don't ever, ever apologise to me," he said, his word more angry than he had intended.

He had an overwhelming urge to protect her. He placed his hand on the small of her back and steered her towards his study. His father's old study had become his sanctuary he hoped she would feel safe there. He wanted to hold her to comfort her but he wasn't sure he dare. Cautiously, carefully he moved towards her. Gently he deliberately placed his hands on her waist. He dare not touch her skin but he would not see her uncomforted. With great tenderness he pulled her towards him tightening his embrace. Her head rested against the lapel of his robe. He could feel her trembling.

He daren't hold her any longer though:

"Are you alright?" He asked it was a stupid question but he felt compelled to ask it. "Hermione," her eye looked up to him, "we need to talk".

As gently as he could Draco steered her towards one of the large chairs that stood by the fire. He sat her down then poured them both a large fire whiskey.

They sat in awkward silence for many moments siping their fire whiskey. Finally Draco broke the silence:

"We need to see a curse breaker," he stated quite simply.

She nodded in agreement.

"Can you think of anyone who would have cursed us?" He asked.

"Perhaps Ron," she scoffed, "perhaps he would see it as just punishment that I would be magnetically attracted to a man I'm supposed to hate."

"Do you hate me that much?" Draco questioned.

"No Draco, I don't hated you at all, I'm not even sure that I ever did," she replied.

They fell silent again he looked puzzled.

"I know a brilliant curse breaker we could consult, he works for Gringott's he's the best there is," Hermione said breaking the silence.

"Great we'll see him," Draco concluded then looked at her face, he knew there was a but "but...?"

"It's Bill Weasley," she said tentatively.

"Ah!" He replied clear reluctance in his voice, "you're sure he is the best?"

"Positive!" Hermione replied emphatically.

"Then I guess we have no choice," he sighed.

They fell into silence he poured another fire whiskey.

"Draco?"

Merlin he would never get bored of listening to the way she said his given name.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask?" The implication was clear, she could ask but he might not answer.

"Why did you never remarry?"

This was not a question Draco had been expecting from her. He was too taken aback to consider if he should be candid with her or not.

Hermione had expected him to say that no one could every replace Astoria, she had not expected what came next:

"No one could ever measure up to the women I've always loved, it wouldn't be fair."

"You must have loved Astoria very much," it was a statement not a question.

"Oh I did but even she didn't measure up, I loved her because she saved my life, because she bore me a son but she was not the girl I would have chosen."

Hermione was stunned, she had always assumed that it was his devotion to Astoria that had kept this most eligible of widowers single but she was wrong.

All she said was "oh".

There was another awkward silence, they continued to sip their whiskey.

"I always thought you were beautiful at school, you know," Draco said rather suddenly as if speaking his thoughts out loud in an unguarded moment.

Perhaps it was the whisky that emboldened him, or may be his tongue just decided to bye pass his brain. Draco had no idea why he had said that.

She just smiled, "thank you," she replied simply before continuing, "I always loved the mischievous sparkle in your eyes. I was so sad when it disappeared in our fifth year but I'm delighted to see you have it back."

"Wow!" he thought. He liked that little confession it showed that she had thought about him at least some of the time.

"I never knew you admired anything about me," he admitted.

She laughed, it was a beautiful sight she threw her head back and some of her loosened curls bounced behind her back.

"It wasn't easy to admire you, but there were little things, your beautiful hands, the line of your jaw, the smoothness of your skin. Those things were always aesthetically pleasing to me." She confessed.

"Careful, Ms Granger, say any more and I will believe you thought me handsome." He said mockingly.

"I do find you handsome Draco I would be a liar if I said otherwise," she said in all sincerity.

A small blush spread across his beautifully defined cheekbones.

"Why Mr Malfoy I do believe you are blushing," she teased.

"Perhaps we should be getting back I am the host, my absence will have been noted," he said desperate to change the subject.

"Oh course, I will make an appointment with Bill and then owl you the time and place," Hermione confirmed as they left his study to rejoin the party.

Draco couldn't sleep, his mind flipped between the lust he had felt for her, how beautiful she looked and fear of what this curse might mean. He was amazed that she didn't hate him. That she had never hated him. That she thought he was handsome. He felt like a giddy school boy suddenly given hope.

"Don't be an old fool Draco," he berated himself, "it is no more possible now than it was 20 years ago."

"But why?" He suddenly thought, "Why not, Voldemort was gone, his father and Aunt Bella were dead, she was divorcing her husband there was no one to interfere, so why not?" He asked himself.

"Because you're a bloody coward," the voice at the back of his head said.

Well for once in his life Draco determined he would be brave, he could see that fate had given him a second chance and he would take it. Fate had thrown her into his path and although he couldn't believe that he deserved her, he couldn't believe he would succeed even, he'd be damned if he didn't at least try to be with her this time.


	14. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco reveals that he may know more about the curse than he has admitted to Hermione.

Did you really say that?" Ginny asked giggling when they finally met up on New Year's day.

"Yes, it was just an objective observation, he his handsome," Hermione said a little defensively.

"And he said you were beautiful?"

"Yes Ginny 'were' past tense," Hermione reminded her.

"Well as you haven't changed a bit, I would say he still thinks you're beautiful."

Ginny had taken Hermione's separation from Ron better than Hermione expected. She had clearly decided to live and let live and try to keep her friend.

"There was however one serious problem," Hermione began to explain.

"What his wealth or did you trip over his ego?" Ginny quipped.

"No, it seems we may have been cursed."

Ginny was wide eyed with confusion, "someone cursed you and Malfoy how did you know, it's not deadly is it?"

"No, it's not deadly but it's somewhat inconvenient," Hermione told her oldest girlfriend.

"How so?" Ginny asked.

Hermione decided she might as well just out with it.

"He almost had me orgasming on the dance floor and he only had hold of my hand, what is worse it was reciprocal."

"How do you know it was reciprocal?" Ginny asked an arch smirk on her face.

"Well in Malfoy's words 'thank Merlin for the folds of that gown otherwise I would have been exhibiting some very ungentlemanly conduct,'" Hermione had to laugh she had to admit that she did see the funny side of things when he phrased it like that.

"So what is the curse Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"I'm not sure but I know what it does it creates incredible lust, it was worse the second time I touched him."

"You went back for seconds?" Ginny asked incredulously, "I didn't know you had it in you."

"Ginny not like that, it was just to check there was a curse, it was so intense, I really daren't touch him again. I think I might be compelled to make out with him even if we were in the middle of Diagon Alley." Hermione concluded.

"Well I guess you will just have to keep away from him."

Hermione nodded but Ginny noticed her biting her lip, it was a tell tale give away that something else was on Hermione's mind.

"You don't want to keep away from him do you?" Ginny asked in a tone of utter amazement.

"I don't know Ginny, he seems so different, so gentle, oh shit!" Hermione exclaimed. She didn't finish that statement but both she and Ginny knew what it meant. Hermione was falling for the former Slytherin.

The next day Hermione made an appointment with Bill Weasley to discuss the curse. She owled Malfoy the time of their meeting with Bill at Gringott's. Bill had taken time out of his lunch to meet the pair in a small cramped back office inside the bank. Having passed through the bank's security Hermione and Draco took the stiff backed wooden seats opposite Bill. They all sat at an aged wooden desk whose surface appeared to be encrusted with at least four centuries of grim. Draco fidgeted, pulling on the crisp white cuffs of his beautifully pressed shirt, a look of discomfort or rather distain etched on his finely chiselled face.

Bill Weasley, Draco recalled, was the one with the beautiful part Veela wife. This Weasley showed all the evidence of the Weasley's pure blood heritage, like the beautiful younger sister that Potter had married, his features showed all the nobility of his ancestry except for that livid scar he had, an unpleasant souvenir from Greyback. /p>

When they were both seated Bill cleared his throat.

"So I understand that you believe you have been cursed?" Bill began.

Draco scoffed the epitome of his old arrogant self. It was Hermione who responded. She told Bill as briefly as possible what had happened at the Malfoy's New Years Ball.

Bill listened intently making the odd note with an old quill that blotched as much as it wrote.Finally when Hermione had finished Bill began to ask a few questions.

"So as far as you are both aware you had never had skin to skin contact before New Year, no accidental brush of the hand or arm in the corridor?" Bill asked.

"Not that I remember," Hermione insisted, "do you recall anything Draco?"

Draco just shock his head, but behind his closed expression his mind was racing. ‘Of course there was, but how can I tell you.’ Draco's mind flew back to that fateful day at Hogwarts she had brushed his lips so tenderly but she had touch him and that touch may well have been enough to activate the curse.

After a few more questions Bill stood. May I check you both over, I need to do a few diagnostic spells nothing painful or instrusive.

Draco tensed, Hermione took his reaction as mistrust, "It's fine Draco really you can trust Bill.' Draco didn't doubt that, it was what Weasley would find that worried him.

Still remaining stoically silent, Draco consented.

As if sensing some level of hostility Bill chose to start with Hermione. They sat in awkward silence as Bill worked away making notes, doing small calculations and muttering what Draco assumed to be counter curses. Finally after a good 20 minutes, Bill sat back down his brow knitted together.

"So, what can you tell us?" Draco's impatience finally broke his silence.

"Not too much at this point, I will need to do a little research. What I can say is this curse was cast some twenty years ago. It has some unusual characteristics, it appears to have intensified with time and as far as I can tell the caster is dead so we can not ask them to lift it," Bill told them.

"Don't curses usually die with their author," Hermione questioned the beginnings of a frown of concentration on her face.

"Usually," Bill said cautiously, "but this curse appears to be dark magic and dark magic can draw its power from beyond the veil."

"Dark Magic?" Hermione looked concerned, " who could possibly have had the opportunity to cast dark magic on us both?"

"It's difficult to say," Bill conceded, "but it is likely a former Death Eater although they would not need to curse you both, just one of you so the curse would spread by touch to the other."

"Do you think it can be broken?" Hermione asked.

"Quite honestly Hermione at this stage I am not sure. If it can't you will just have to hire a private island, bonk like bunnies and get it out of your system."

Both the other occupants of the room gave him a stony faced glare at his last comment.

"Ah well..." Bill sensed he might have misjudged the situation and the lunch hour was coming to an end so Bill determined to bring the meeting to a close.

"I will be in touch again as soon as I have more news," Bill said as a cue to dismiss them. Hermione rose from her chair, straightening her back after the stiffness of the old wooden seat. Draco made to follow her but before he got out the door Bill called him back.

"Malfoy, are you sure there is nothing you recall? It is most likely that the curse was cast on you."

Draco gave Bill a wry smile, he appreciate the man's tact. He hadn't said 'your the bloody former Death Eater it must have something to do with you.'

"Not that I can recall Weasley," Draco confirmed, " but if anything comes to mind I will inform you."

After saying goodbye to Hermione in Gringott's Draco left to have his regular meeting with Blaise. He was however deeply troubled by what Bill had revealed.

Draco entered the coffee shop and he sat down waiting for Blaise to arrive. Draco was a few minutes early so as he waited he assessed the list of possible suspects that had been forming in his mind since he left the bank. His father was one possibility, but his father was such a bigoted pureblood elitist he couldn't even imagine him casting any curse that would involve his son touching Hermione, even if it was to kill her. Aunt Bella was another possibility, she was insane enough to do anything but she was not usually subtle. Bella's style had been cruel and direct, it didn't seem like her. Dolohov was a nasty bastard, who had particularly disliked Draco and resented his presence in the Death Eater's ranks. Draco couldn't rule out that possibility but Dolohov would have had to have known that Draco had some feelings for Hermione. Even back then he was too skilled at occulmency for Dolohov to have known this. The only person who could penetrate his mind back then had been the Dark Lord himself. 'Yes,' Draco thought, 'it would be like him, he revelled in the suffering of others and what exquisite suffering it would have been to have me kill the girl I wanted more than anything in the world.’ Draco smiled mirthlessly, 'of course Voldemort, but you had miscalculate, you thought you needed to induce that desire in me but in reality it was already there and those feelings protected her just like, my mother's love had protected Potter.'

"Hello Mate," Blaise's greeting interrupted Draco's train of thought. " You look like something is troubling you."

"You have no idea," Draco confessed.

It had taken Draco half a lifetime but he had come to understand that it was unhealthy to bottle up all his worries, it had nearly driven him to madness in his fifth year at Hogwarts, but he had learned to trust and confide in two people, one was his mother and Blaise was the other. He knew he needed to confide in Blaise now.

It took Draco his first cup of coffee to explain to Blaise about the curse and what Weasley had been able to discover. Then he told him his own suspicion that it was Voldemort's curse.

"What makes you think it was Voldemort," Blaise asked.

"Because he enjoyed other people's suffering," Draco stated simply.

"I don't understand how you lusting after Granger and her returning the compliment was any real suffering," Blaise said in a tone which attempted to lift Draco's mood.

"He ordered me to kill her Blaise," the words dripped from Draco's lips like some bitter poison.

Blaise looked stunned.

"Go on," Blaise encourage the unspoken, ‘explain to me,’ implicit in those two short words.

"Voldemort was angry with me for my failure over Dumbledore, even now I can not even think of the extent of his wrath, suffice it to say I had never experienced pain like it. He had driven into my thoughts, tearing at the walls in my mind, ripping through my memories to get to what happened that night."

Blaise nodded he would not offer platitudes about something he could not comprehend.

"Suddenly the pain stopped but he had not reached what he had been looking for...'Interesting' he had hissed, 'very interesting, yes indeed Draco I can see why you might find her charming, oh yes witty, intelligent and those alluring brown eyes' I remember those the words as if it had happened yesterday. I felt so violated Blaise these memories I had of Hermione were buried so deep I barely acknowledge them to myself and then he said it. 'It's such a pity she is a Mudblood, I can see that these thought have caused you suffering Draco, we must relieve you of this suffering.’ I remember the dread that passed through me as he said this. I remember he rested his hand upon my shoulder like some benevolent father as he said, 'I will give you a chance to redeem yourself Draco, you will kill the Mudblood.’ I had wished then that he had simply slit my throat and left me to bleed dry at his feet. I thought he might as well have done. I understood then finally, clearly that the only emotion that Voldemort could feel in his fractured soul was suffering and he intended to make us all suffer."

Blaise had always known that his friend had suffered but this was beyond anything he had imagined. He had always suspected that Draco had had feelings for Hermione. He suspected those feelings were still there, a small ember that only needed the oxygen of her attention to reignite, but he had never imagined anything like this. Voldemort had not intended Draco to live he would have basked, not only in Draco's agony at being made to murder the girl he desired, but in Draco's parents despair at the loss of their son.

"So what happened? She clearly survived but how?" Blaise asked.

As Blaise asked this he offered up a silent prayer to an unknown god. 'Please let him tell me he couldn't do it, please let there be some hope of redemption here.'

"I couldn't do it," Draco stated simply. Inwardly Blaise thanked which ever deity it was that had answered that prayer.

"I caught her on one of the staircases, as I dissapparated she had fallen over some of the debris and dropped her wand. I quickly took advantage of the fact that she was disarmed. I had my wand at her heart but as I looked into her face I knew I couldn't do it. I told her to leave to go. She kissed me Blaise. I swear it was the gentlest thing I had ever felt. The softest brush of my lips. I knew then that I couldn't bear for her to know that I had intended to take her life. Before I could even think I had said it 'obliviate'. The memory was gone she still has no idea what I did."

"You spared her life," Blaise said.

"I tried to take her life and then violated her memory," Draco said the tone of despair heavy in his voice. Guilt tearing at his heart.

"Mate," Blaise said trying to ease his friend's guilt, "you didn't do it and she survived."

Blaise had a feeling nothing he could say could assuage this particular guilt.


	15. A better Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione reveals some of her inner most thoughts about Draco.

Hermione tossed and turned in the guest room at Grimmauld Place. She had had a pleasant meal with Harry and Ginny but when the conversation had inevitably turned to the curse her friends' anxiety had run through her causing the tension she had felt all day to reappear. So she couldn't sleep, she had mentally made a list of suspects and although she did not know it, and it was by a different route of reasoning, she eventual reached the same conclusion that Draco had that afternoon. The curse had been Voldemort's doing. Now she lay in the dark room, staring at the canopy of the ancient four poster bed, her nerves wired. She could not think that anything good would come of this, it smacked of an act of revenge. What Hermione was unsure of was vengeance against whom? Herself, Harry or Draco she didn't know.

Finally she drifted off to sleep but it was not the dreamless sleep of the exhausted.

Hermione dreamt herself back at Hogwarts.

In her dream Hermione felt herself trip. She reached out to keep her balance as her wand clattered to the floor. She made to retrieve it but before she could a dark mist descended in front of her. "Death Eater," she mental cursed. She watch in dismay, as a polished black leather boot kicked away her wand so that it disappeared into the depths of the abyss that had opened at the heart of Hogwarts. "Damn!" Before she could react she heard a familiar voice:

"Hello Granger,"

"Malfoy," just her luck.

"Get out of my way Malfoy," she demanded.

He laughed, before she had time to get past him he had moved with incredible speed and had her pinned against a column with his wand pressed against her heart.

"Malfoy," she tried to bat the wand away.

She could see he was becoming incensed, clearly unhappy that she did not take him as a serious threat. He pushed her further into the column.

"Malfoy you're hurting me," she complained, for the first time a flicker of uncertainty crossed her mind.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" she questioned.

"I would have thought that was obvious Granger, I'm going to kill you."

Although Hermione maintained a brave facade she couldn't stop the flicker of fear that fled across her face.

"Now you feel something for me don't you, " he said.

"Well get on with it then," she challenged, "I don't have all day," he seemed impressed with her bravado.

"What?" she challenged, "no last words, no final insult Malfoy?"

"Last words are for heros," he said, "knock yourself out Granger."

"Coward," she spat.

She watched as colour spread across his cheeks, ‘is it wise of me to rile him?’ She thought in her dream.

He leaned forward, pressing his wand painfully into her chest.

"That's right Granger," he hissed into her ear, "I'm a coward," he paused before he continued whispering breathlessly, "if I wasn't I would tell you I love you and save you, but you see," he continued his warm breath caressing her neck, "if I do that Hermione he will kill me."

The regret in his voice, as he uttered those last few words, was palpable he said her name so gently. Hermione would almost have believed that he meant what he said. She determined then that he would have to look her in the eye if he meant to kill her. She looked up at him locking eyes determined she would not look away. There was confusion in his storm grey eyes as she looked at him. There were so many things she could have done, so many thoughts she could have said but what she needed to know was if it was true, did he really love her? "Legilimence," Hermione had worked hard on this piece of wandless magic, she expected him to fight the intrusion into his head to throw her out of his mind but he didn't.

"What does it matter now?" she heard his inner voice reason, "who could you possibly tell?"

She was hit by an overwhelming wall of emotion, fear, despair, regret, desire and desperate longing.

This boy, who Hermione had thought so cold and unfeeling, felt things so deeply. Tears began to pool in her eyes finally at the end she knew something of this enigmatic boy and she wanted to weep for him.

"Any finally words Hermione," he said so gently.

"Goodbye Draco, remember me," she said as the tears finally spilled from her eyes.

Leaning forward she allowed her lips to gently brush his.

Hermione awoke with a start it seemed so real, more a memory than a dream. Her subconscious showing her again his gentleness that must always have been there even beneath the Death Eater's mask.

Hermione was looking forward to a leisurely Sunday. She had bought a copy of a hotly anticipated new book by her favourite wizarding author, she had bought herself a few luxury Belgian chocolates and a bottle of prosecco all of which she planned to sit down and enjoy in the late afternoon. Nearly two weeks after she had broken up with Ron she was still staying with her parents and she had barely had a moments peace and quiet. That afternoon her parents were going to the cinema and she had chosen to stay home to indulge her favourite hobby.

Hermione was helping her mother clear away the breakfast things when a rather imperious eagle owl tapped on the kitchen window. Hermione let in the owl which hopped onto the table and stood holding out a leg waiting for her to take the note it had brought. She could have sworn that the bird, if it had had a nose, would have looked like it was turning it up in distain. She opened the expensive parchment and was not in the least surprised to find that the snooty owl must be the property of Narcissa Malfoy.

Dear Hermione,

The note began.

I leave for France early tomorrow morning and I had hoped to see you again before I left. I hope that you will accept my invitation to join Rose and I at Malfoy Manor this afternoon for tea.

With kindest wishes,

Narcissa

P.S. my owl awaits your reply.

Hermione groaned inwardly, it would be nice to see Rose before she returned to Hogwarts for the spring term, but she had so been longing for her quiet afternoon. Sighing she thought, "I guess my book will wait," She really didn't mind Narcissa quite so much as she thought she might. She decided to accept.

Taking out her wand she waved an acceptance RSVP over her invitation and sent the bird back.

Afternoon tea Hermione knew was served traditional at about 4pm so she still had a few hours to sort out a smart day dress and still have a little time to read.

At 3.45pm Hermione stood in a navy silk wrap dress embellished with red poppies ready to floo to Malfoy Manor. She thought that Narcissa might disapprove of her not wearing robes so she matched the dress with navy robes.

"Malfoy Manor," She annunciated clearly as she threw the floo powder into the grate. Seconds later she was being greeted by one of the Malfoy's house elves.

"Pinkie is to show Ms Granger to The Orangery," Pinkie led the way.

The Orangery was a part of Malfoy Manor that Hermione had never even imagined. It was an imposing cast iron structure built perhaps a century earlier reflecting the fashion of the time to emulate the Crystal Palace from the Great Exhibition. The glass structure was flooded with the beautiful soft blue light that was often seen before it snowed. The building truly was an orangery too. Rows of orange trees sported their waxy white blooms. The air filled with the delicious smell of citrus that alway reminded Hermione of Christmas. Narcissa sat resplendent in her pale green robes talking amiably to Rose who had just at that moment noted her mother's arrival.

"Mum!" Rose exclaimed.

"Hello sweetheart," Hermione replied, "Good afternoon Narcissa," she greeted the older witch warmly.

"Good afternoon Hermione, I'm so pleased you could join us, please take a seat. I thought it would be pleasant to take tea here this afternoon the light is alway so beautiful on a fine day at this time of year."

Hermione smiled at how Narcissa's comment about the light had so mirrored her own thoughts. As Hermione sat an elegant 3 tiered afternoon tea tray appeared sporting a mixture of sandwiches, delicious looking French pastries and of course the obligatory English scone. Tea was served in beautiful porcelain cups, cups glided and decorated with impressive botanical drawings of oranges and other citrus fruits that perfectly matched their surroundings. She felt for a moment like 'Alice Through the Looking Glass'. It all seemed some how very surreal.

As she finished a delicious glazed strawberry tartlet Hermione heard the echo of footsteps on the stone flags that approached the Orangery. Scorpius appeared in his Quidditch robes, broom in hand, hair dishevelled and a rosy blush painted across his face.

"Rose," he called from the doorway, "come and fly with us."

As Scorpius walked further into the room Draco appeared, lounging against the door frame. Hermione took in his appearance, like Scorpius his was flushed from the cold and exercise, his hair had fallen across his eyes, their was a slight shadow across his jaw that she didn't think she had ever seen on him before, clearly he hadn't shaved. As he looked down adjusting his wrist guards she appraised the rest of him. His tight quidditch pants revealed strong toned thighs, clearly the result of years of clinging to his broom. He was tall, broad shouldered and although she couldn't tell from beneath his quidditch jumper everything hinted at a lean sculpted torso. Hermione marvelled that, unlike Ron whose abdomen had begun to sag from neglect, Draco remained a fine figure. She idly wondered if he would look like sculpted white marble if she were to remove his jumper.

Narcissa had watch with interest as Hermione had given her son an appraising look. Narcissa was a skilled observer of non-verbal communication. This skill had served her well over the years she could tell, without magic, when people were liars, when they dissembled, when they were hiding anger, fear and when they felt desire. Hermione's face spoke of desire, her pupils were dilated, her eyes wide and she was unconsciously licking her lips. The famous witch was attracted to her son. Narcissa found this intriguing and wondered if this was a long suppressed desire.

Narcissa was under no illusions she had known for years that Draco harboured a deeply suppressed desire for this woman. She suspected that, at least in part, this was one of the reasons her son had never remarried and given her more grandchildren. Now it seemed that the object of his desire was drawn to him too. Narcissa in turn appraised the muggle born witch, she was still young enough to bear a child, Rose was clear evidence of her fertility, she was a powerful witch with great magical potential and she was still a beautiful women. Narcissa felt a warm glow at the image of the grandchildren that her son and this intelligent witch could produce. "You're getting ahead of yourself Narcissa," she gave herself a stern talking to but she still felt the soft comfort of hope brush her heart.

Rose had readily agreed to join the two Malfoy men in their fly about.

"I don't suppose we can persuade you to join us?" Draco asked eyebrows raised.

"No I don't think so," Hermione confirmed.

"Still afraid of the broom?" He mocked jovially.

"No still afraid of heights," she confessed. Hermione marvelled at the ease with which she had confessed this weakness. It said so much about how the dynamic had changed between her and this 'new' Draco Malfoy. She would never have admitted a weakness to the boy she had known in her youth.

He said nothing more, silently acknowledging her rebuttal.

"See you later then mum, don't leave without saying goodbye," Rose said in a hurry to join the other Quidditch players.

So Hermione found herself alone once again with the Malfoy matriarch.

" You have a beautiful garden here," Hermione commented in an attempt to make polite conversation.

"Thank you, it has been one of my greatest pleasures developing this garden. When I first came to the Malfoy estate as a young bride there was nothing here but lawns and a vast expanse of woodland and meadow. It was designed for hunting not for a family to enjoy or a child to play in."

"Oh you designed the garden yourself?" Hermione enquired.

"And more. I remember now planting the great border with the help of the house elves and Draco. I can see him now still small enough to hide behind my skirts. Grime smeared across his face as he helped me to plant the Iris and the Narcissi 'pretty flowers like you mummy' he had said. He still had the sing song voice of a small child and a child's joyful innocence. Before Lucius built the ice behind his eyes." Hermione was stunned by the bitterness in Narcissa's voice.

Narcissa immediately picked up on her shock, "Oh don't look so surprised Hermione. I hated Lucius in the end. Hated what he did to Draco, hated that he took away the only gentleness and softness in my life, hated that he destroyed all that was beautiful in my little boy. Lucius tried to beat all the kindness out of Draco. He told him it was weakness and Draco, with his loving heart, wanted to make his father love him. In the end it almost destroyed the boy." Narcissa sighed, "I am only glad that I have lived to see him grow into something resembling the man he should have been. Now I only hope to see him happy. Do you enjoy gardening?" Narcissa asked abruptly changing the tone and topic of the conversation.

"No reading has always been my hobby of choice," Hermione admitted.

That seemed to be a conversation killer. Narcissa's face became terribly serious again.

"May I ask you a question Hermione?" The blonde asked.

"Yes," Hermione agreed very cautiously.

"What do you think of Draco?"

Hermione looked at her stunned, as if to say you can't really expect me to admit anything.

"Please Hermione, the truth," Narcissa pleaded.

Hermione thought carefully before she responded thinking of something neutral to say.

"He's very handsome," she finally admitted.

"Yes but what do you think of him? Do you still hate him?" Narcissa pressed.

Hermione looked at the older women shocked.

"I never hated him Narcissa. Yes he hurt me, yes he teased me and he was cruel to me at times, but I always felt it was all a performance. Draco behaved how he thought he was expected to behave not how he really was. Somehow I always knew that. Still he has always been an enigma to me. I never really understood him. I know he is not now the boy I knew back at Hogwarts but I can't answer your question Narcissa. I know nothing of the man Draco has become." She concluded before a moment later adding as an afterthought, "although I suspect he is a better man than most would credit."

The older witch nodded her head slightly then smiled enigmatically before taking a sip of her tea.

Draco took a bugler to the shoulder. It felt dislocated and at the very least it was going to be painful and bruised if he didn't give it some attention. He smiled as he watch the interactions of the young couple on the pitch. He decide to make a hasty retreat and leave the pair to it.

He could still hear the laughter of the young pair as he made his way back towards the manor. Dismounting his broom as he approached the entrance to the orangery Draco paused to straighten himself up before entering the room where he had left his mother talking to Hermione. He dearly hoped his mother wasn't interrogating their guest again. Stealthy entering the glass house he caught a snippet of what seemed to be a very serious conversation about him.

"What do you think of Draco?" He heard his mother ask.

Hermione didn't immediately respond.

"Please Hermione, the truth," he heard his mother press her guest.

"He's very handsome"

Draco preened a little at this whilst he knew that 'Witch Weekly' still described him thus it was nice to hear an attractive woman confirm it but this clearly had not been what his mother wanted to know.

"Yes but what do you think of him? Do you still hate him?" His mother demanded. Draco's ears picked up now.

"I never hated him Narcissa. Yes he hurt me, yes he teased me and he was cruel to me at times, but I always felt it was all a performance. Draco behaved how he thought he was expected to behave not how he really was. Somehow I always knew that. Still he has always been an enigma to me. I never really understood him. I know he is not now the boy I knew back at Hogwarts but I can't answer your question Narcissa. I know nothing of the man Draco has become." She concluded before a moment later adding as an afterthought, "although I suspect he is a better man than most would credit."

There it was again. She didn't hate him, she had never hated him. She almost sounded as if he fascinated her. ‘That can't be a bad thing?’ He thought to himself but then he recalled how she would hate him if she knew he had been tasked to be her assassin.

Draco made himself known stepping into the room cradling his sore shoulder.

"Draco dear," his mother began with an immediate note of alarm in her voice, "what happened?"

"Scorpius has clearly decided it's a good idea to beat the old man up, I took a bugler to the shoulder, I think I may have dislocated it, would you take a look mother?" He pleaded a pained grimace on his face.

"Oh Draco dear you know I am no good with healing charms, Pinkie should be able to help."

"Let me," Hermione said before she realised what she had said, "I'm very good with healing charms."

"Yes I suppose you would be those two friends of yours got into plenty of scraps when we were at school," Draco said with a disarming smile at her.

Hermione rose to her feet and walk towards him.

"You will have to take your jumper off, if I am to do the job properly I need to see the shoulder joint," she said.

"Any excuse to get my clothes off hey Granger," he said with a smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed recognising the same old Malfoy act.

"Of course, why else?" She said with a smirk that would have done any Malfoy proud.

He lifted his jumper slowly and with difficult, the injury to his shoulder making the action rather painful. She wonder why he didn't just vanish it? But she knew it was far more sexy to see him remove it revealing bit by bit his toned abs. When finally he had succeeded he stood there, his hair charmingly ruffled, looking like a latter day 'David'. His torso did. as she imagined, look like chiselled marble. She moved to reach for his shoulder but she drew back quickly recalling suddenly that she dare not touch him.

"Oh," she whispered, "I forgot."

"Give it a try," he said with more confidence than he actually felt.

She brushed his shoulder lightly with her finger tips, he immediately shivered at the contact.

"Quickly," he said. Hermione read the unvoiced message clearly, do it quickly and we might just get away with this.

"Ok she said like ripping off a band aid, one, two..." she didn't get to three, she desperately hoped this little trick she had learnt from her father would be enough to do the job before their curse kicked in. Hermione flicked her wand and the shoulder clicked back into place.

Draco let out a huge breath.

"Better?" She enquired.

He flexed his shoulder, Hermione watched in fascination as his muscles rippled.

"Much better," he told her with a half smile that didn't really reach his eyes.


	16. A date with Draco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco go on a date to try and speed her divorce along.

Later that evening, Hermione lay in her bed in her childhood room attempting to read her novel without much success. She couldn't get her conversation with Narcissa out of her mind, the image his mother had created of the charming little blond boy, all love and kindness. The ice that had grown inside his soul that Hermione herself had seen behind those haunted grey eyes. She couldn't get away from the thoughts of the misery he must have suffered. A loving child who would do anything for the love of his parents. The boy she had known had indeed been a product of his father's brutality yet still a small part of that sweet boy Narcissa had spoken so warmly of had always remained and she realised that part of her teenage self had reached out to that part of him. This was why she had never really hated him.

Monday came around far too quickly, the Christmas break was over and Hermione felt all too keenly that post Christmas depression. Hermione buried herself in her work to try and drive away the Monday blues. By lunchtime she had cleared some of her backlog of work and she prepared to go to her appointment with her lawyer. There was still the thorny matter of her divorce from Ron to deal with.

Blaise greeted her with a bright smile as he came out of his office to meet her.

"Hermione, so nice to see you again so soon, please...," he ushered her into his office.

As soon as she was seated Blaise wasted no time in bringing her up to date.

"Well as we suspected, your marriage vows were traditional not unbreakable vows so divorce is clearly possible. What progress on driving your soon to be ex into another women's arms?"

Hermione appreciated Blaise's no nonsense attitude. So she chose not to beat around the bush.

"None," she said.

"Oh, you do surprise me I was sure you must have, excuse the phrase, 'picked up' someone at the Malfoy's New Year Ball, you were certainly receiving many appraising glances," Blaise said bluntly.

"Yes well perhaps the stench of my dirty blood is still repellent to some of the Malfoy's society guests. Apart from the Malfoy's, Rose, Luna and yourself I spoke to no one. Oh wait that's not true I danced with Kingsley but Ron is hardly likely to believe I am having a dalliance with a man of Kingsley's age."

Blaise looked contemplative for a moment then he hit on an idea that would 'kill too birds with one stone' so to speak.

"These things can drag on a terribly long time if one is not careful and a clean break is often better for the children, would you be amenable to doing something to force the issue?" Blaise enquired.

"That depends," Hermione responded, "entirely on what you had in mind."

Blaise asked what Ron's view was of Draco, when Hermione explained that Ron was blind to the way Draco had change to the point of bigotry, Blaise suggested that he ask Draco to take Hermione on a very public date. Ron he explained was highly likely to react to this by showing that anything Draco could do he could do too and this would almost certainly involve another women. Hence Ron would have fallen into their trap.

Although Hermione disliked these types of games, they were a very Slytherin modus operandi, she recognised that Blaise was most likely right. If she wanted a reaction out of Ron she couldn't chose anyone better than Draco to provoke it. She also knew Ron well enough to suppose that Ron's reaction might well be to try and provoke Hermione to jealousy in turn. 'Yes,' she thought, 'it would most likely work.' There was however one slight problem; would Draco agree to help?

"What about Draco?" She asked quite seriously, "He has kept a very low profile to try and mend his bad boy reputation do you think he will agree?"

"Dinner will give him deniability, the press will make more of it than they should but he will be able to say, it was just dinner. Besides I believe that the two of you have an issue you need to deal with?"

Hermione looked shocked, "He told you?"

"Yes, he doesn't speak to many people Hermione but I am his oldest friend and I think he has learnt that he can't keep everything to himself, he trusts me more than most," Blaise said with a small smile.

"Will you ask him to help?" She didn't think she could ask him herself, Blaise would make it sound like a business proposition, she would make it seem like she was using him. She didn't want to do that.

So it was that three days later she found herself preparing for a dinner date with Draco.

Having consulted Blaise on the best tactics for this 'date' Draco selected the most exclusive restaurant in Diagon Alley. A place guaranteed to be crawling with paparazzi. Blaise assured him that all he need do was have a pleasant meal with Hermione and behave like the prefect gentleman. Say nothing and allow the press to draw its own conclusions.

For years Draco had avoided all such publicity so he was uncertain at first. He didn't want to damage Hermione's reputation but in the end he was swayed by Blaise's argument that they were doing absolutely nothing wrong.

"Why shouldn't you take an old school friend to dinner?" Blaise had challenged.

"Well 'old friend' might be a bit strong!" Draco suggested.

In the end Draco agreed. This would be part of being brave, taking a risk with her and seeing where it went.

They had agreed that they should not arrive separately, but rather make a very public entrance together. This necessitated them meeting first. Hermione was stunned when she realised that she trusted him enough to give him her parents' address so he could meet her there.

Hermione had explained to her parents about the wizarding divorce laws and how she needed to drive Ron to adultery or the semblance of it. She explained that Draco was Scorpius' father and an old schoolmate. She also explained that Ron had been jealous of Draco and that the lawyers advice was to try and make Ron react to her 'date' by seeing another woman.

Hermione's parents were astounded by such backwardness in the wizarding world's legislation but they supposed there was little else their daughter could do.

Draco arrived punctually, 15 minutes before their reservation. Hermione introduced him to her parents.

"Mum, Dad this is Draco, Scorpius' father," she announced. Her parents had met Scorpius sometime ago and regarded him as a very decent young man. Her mother was particularly interested in meeting the father.

"My word," Jean Granger said, "you are so like your son."

"It's a magical thing mum," Hermione explained, "the genes always breed true so that the first born son looks like the father."

"So you look exactly like your father?" Jean Granger looked intrigued.

"Yes," Draco acknowledge, kindly avoiding the point that his father was dead.

"So Draco," her father said, "you are going to help Hermione do the dirty deed?"

"Dad," Hermione snapped, she was already nervous, "please stop referring to it as that".

"Just dinner, Sir," Draco stated very politely.

Hermione moved towards Draco who offered her his arm, "shall we?" He asked.

A few moments later they appeared outside the high class restaurant that Draco had booked in Diagon Alley. Hermione had barely had time to recover from apparition before there was a lightening storm of flash bulbs going off.

"Hermione," she heard, "Ms Granger are you and Mr Malfoy dating".

There was a maelstrom of questions. Neither of them said anything. Draco placed a proprietary hand on the base of her spine and helped usher her towards the restaurant door.

When they reached the relative sanctuary of the restaurant Hermione heaved a sigh of relief. Draco merely approached the hostess to announce their arrival and said nothing more.

When they were finally seated, in a secluded alcove with an aperitif in hand, Hermione broke the silence.

"I think this was a mistake Draco," she confided.

Draco's jaw tightened. Hermione was reminded of Narcissa's words that this was a sign he was reigning in his emotions.

"I don't mean that I wouldn't want to dine with you Draco," she quickly reassured him, "I would just have preferred a more private setting. I'm not sure Blaise's plan will work and the last thing I want is to besmirch your reputation."

Draco scoffed at that, "You're worried for my reputation?"

"Yes," she said then, realising her voice was a little too loud, she whispered, "Yes Draco really, you have worked so hard to recover your reputation. I don't want to see you damaged because I was foolish enough to marry Ron."

" Do you regret your marriage so much?" Draco asked her ignoring her earlier concerns.

"I don't regret my children, if Ron and I did nothing else right we raised too wonderful children but beyond that..." she sighed, "I don't know Draco, I'm not sure Ron and I were ever suited to each other. I also think that I went with what was expected of me."

"For someone who analyses everything I'm surprised you didn't realise this before?" He stated.

"I think I was in love with the whole Weasley clan rather than just Ron. I felt they were family and I belonged with them but may be I never belonged with Ron. My mother says we never had the intellectual bond needed for a lasting marriage, that he was not my equal." She shrugged her shoulders as if to dismiss the whole idea.

"No one was your intellectual equal," Draco stated matter of factly.

"That's not true."

Draco raised an eyebrow at that as if to say, "really?"

"I know you were," She told him, " I think I just worked harder because I felt I had more to prove. The more you and your friends tried to humiliate me, the more I wanted to prove you wrong."

"Please don't remind me," he said taking a slip of the wine he was drinking, " have I ever told you I'm sorry about that?"

"No, but better late than never," she said with a pleasant smile.

Hermione had begun to relax by the time they had ordered and the starter had arrived. She had to admit that Draco was a much better listener than she expected. She expected him to be all "about me" in his conversation but he wasn't. May be the security of extreme wealth meant he had nothing to prove but she couldn't believe he had nothing to say.

"I feel like I have done nothing but talk 'at' you. I'm sorry you should tell me a little about yourself," she insisted.

"You should know I'm not the talkative type Hermione."

She smiled at him indulgently a little like a mother might look at a small child.

"Ok, well tell me what you have been doing for the last 20 years."

"Raising Scorpius, running the family estates," he said as a matter of fact.

Hermione took a sip of her wine.

"You really don't trust anyone do you?"

Draco looked startled.

"No," he stated quite simply.

Hermione didn't know what to say. If he wouldn't open up to her a little she didn't know what else she could talk about.

There were a few moments of awkward silence. Hermione's attention turned to the rest of the dinners. There was a dark skinned man, his thinning hair hanging greasily across his shinning scalp, he seemed out of place amongst the elegant dinners in the restaurant. He was also apparently dining alone. It struck Hermione as odd that a man so poorly dressed would spend so much to dine alone. She was broken out of her reverie by Draco's quiet voice.

"I will try Hermione," he said his voice sounding so sincere. She looked up into his beautiful haunted grey eyes and her heart missed a beat.

"Thank you."

Over the main course they discussed his business interests and the places he had taken Scorpius on holiday. How pleased he was that most people had accepted Scorpius as his own person and that he was hopeful Scorpius would restore the prestige of the family name. As dessert was cleared the conversation turned to a topic they had begun once before.

"The girl you had wanted to be with, what happened to her? Did she survive the war?" Hermione asked, she had been so curious about this and hoped as he had opened up a little he might tell her a little more.

"Yes she survived," he said a little more guardedly.

"Then why couldn't you be together?" Hermione couldn't quite understand.

"It was never a possibility and then she became someone else's wife." He said with no small measure of regret in his voice.

"Was she one of your many affairs?" Hermione asked.

"Don't believe all you read about me Hermione. No she was never an affair and I wouldn't want the type of women who would have an affair with me."

Hermione contemplated this a moment and then tilted her head to one side as if she was trying to figure him out. She realised he was more moral than she would have given him credit for.

"One thing I have always thought necessary in the way I lived my life. Do as you would be done by. I wouldn't want another man to touch my wife therefore..." he trailed off allowing her to draw her own conclusion.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her chair, 'I am some one else's wife,' she thought to herself. She was yet again amazed that he had agreed to take her to dinner but then she reminded herself again it was 'only dinner'.

When the meal was over he insisted firstly on paying and secondly that he escort her home. She had hoped that they might be able to leave discreetly but no such luck. The paparazzi appeared to have camped out waiting for them to leave.

Before they had clear space to apparate Hermione found a camera lens in her face. Before she could react Draco had pushed the man out of the way. She had seen his eyes flash briefly in a protective rage before the camera flashes flared again.

"Draco," she reached out and pulled his sleeve away, "we need to go".

When they dissaprated in the Granger's lounge Draco was still livid, but not with the reporters with himself. He had over reacted over played his part and made it appear far more likely that they were having an affair. He didn't want Hermione to be the guilty party in the divorce case.

"I'm sorry" he immediately began to apologise "I shouldn't have done that, I don't think that helped". He said a contrite look on his face.


	17. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione returns to the martial home where she is confronted by an irate Ron.

The envy and bitter resentment toward Draco Malfoy that Ron had always felt boiled to the surface as he read the headlines in the 'Daily Prophet' that morning.

'Malfoy dates War Heroine'.

'Eligible widower Draco Malfoy was seen last night with beauty and war heroine Hermione Weasley nee Granger. The handsome couple enjoyed an intimate meal at an exclusive top French restaurant.

Sources have told the Prophet that Hermione and her husband Ron are now estranged. Could the burgeoning relationship with Mr Malfoy be the reasons why?'

Ron couldn't read any more, bile rose in his throat, so she had betrayed him with the slimy snake, a Death Eater, after all that they had been through together. Well Malfoy would not have her. In fact if Ron could not have her he was determined that no one would. He would make sure of it!

After weeks staying with her parents Hermione had finally secured a place of her own. Although she toyed with the idea of a place in London in the end she found herself moving into a charming cottage in the countryside. Andromeda had an old retainers cottage on her land. Andromeda had offered it to Hermione rent free and although Hermione didn't need the charity when she saw the place she fell in love with it immediately. It had what some would call chocolate box charm. The half timbered frame, the mullioned windows, the basket weave brick work of the chimney stack. It even had a pink dog rose climbing around the door. In short Hermione fell in love with the place, it felt like home the moment she entered the door. All it needed was a few personal touches. Her own bed linens, her own photos and of course her own books.

Hermione had left the majority of her personal possessions at the house that she and Ron had called home, now it was time for her to retrieve them. She had waited until a time when she thought Ron wouldn't be there. Ron was a man of regular habits and Hermione expected him to still be at work but when she flooed into their home she had been terribly wrong.

Ron was sitting on the sofa, his eyes red rimmed from a lack of sleep, his pupils dilated from what she quickly recognised was an excess of alcohol. She could smell it in the air. Ron had been drinking heavily, his breath was rank with the smell of stale beer, an empty bottle of fire whiskey was upended next to the chair arm and a bottle of muggle vodka lay on its side on the carpet the Russian Imperial eagles on its label suggesting to Hermione's mind carrion waiting to feast on the dead. 'Merlin help his liver,' Hermione thought to herself.

Even though Hermione no longer had romantic feelings for Ron, that didn't mean she didn't care for his well being. He was so inebriated she feared he could choke on his own vomit.

Afterwards Hermione reflected that she should have heeded the old adage to 'let sleeping dogs lie' but hindsight is a wonderful thing and Hermione could not have anticipated that Ron would ever hurt her.

She had tried to rouse Ron to get him to sober up a little but when he realised it was her he became like a man possessed.

"So not content with my daughter he has to take you..." Ron slurred, his words a little incoherent as his apparently slightly numb tongue struggled to annunciate each syllable.

Perhaps, she reflected afterwards, she should not have engaged in conversation with him but rather ignored his incoherent ramblings but she didn't. She knew immediately what he meant and she was determined she would not take this slur.

"Whatever you think you know Ron then I'm sorry but you are mistaken."

"And what was that then," Ron yelled notioning in a slightly uncoordinated manner to the front cover of 'The Prophet.' "He's got his hands all over you, my wife, you couldn't wait could you you slut".

Hermione was wide eyed with indignation.

"How dare you Ronald Weasley," she snarled, " you see one photograph in a newspaper, a newspaper I might add whose reporters barely recognise a fact if they see one, and you immediately think I'm sleeping with him?"

Ron did not look swayed in his opinion. It was as if he had not heard her at all.

"That's why you were defending him, it wasn't about Rose and that...that boy. It was about him, I saw the way he used to look at you at school, he thought I hadn't seen but I knew he wanted you." He shouted spittle spraying across the room as he yelled.

"So now you decide to go into a jealous rage 20 years later? You know there was never anything between Draco and I," she stopped, she had realised her mistake as soon as she had said it.

"Draco? So it's 'Draco' now is it, when have you ever called him that? The bloody albino ferret couldn't stand it could he. He had everything, the Manor House, the vaults full of galleons and still it wasn't enough he had to have you too." Ron was puce with rage now, Hermione could see there was no reasoning with him and she went to move past him to leave but he had no intentions of allowing that.

"Where do you think you're going?" He demanded.

She said nothing realising belatedly that anything she said would only further incense him.

"Running back to wrap your filthy little mudblood arms around his anaemic Pureblood neck?"

Hermione felt like she had been slapped. Rons words mirrored so clearly those brutal taunts that Draco had used when they were children. She could not believe they had come from Ron's mouth. She felt as if every ounce of blood had drained from her face as her anger mounted to a searing rage.

"Better that than stay here with a drunken bigot," she spat at him.

Ron moved so quickly that she could not reach for her wand to defend herself. Ron had grown into a bear of a man and even though he had let himself go a little he still had the brute strength to pick her up like a rag doll and throw her across the room. Hermione landed hard on her backside her head snapping back to hit the corner of the coffee table. That was the last she remembered before all went black.


	18. Error of Judgement

Rose and Scorpius had just passed their apparation test so to celebrate they decided to 'pop' off to somewhere more private. Rose suggested her parent’s house because, like her mother, she mistakenly assumed her father would be at work and they would have the place to themselves for an hour or so. Teddy had told them that, according to his grandmother, his parents used to apparate whilst kissing. Rose and Scorpius decided they were up for trying this. The emotions they had anticipated as the popped into the Weasley family home were not the ones they got.

Horror and confusion were Rose's predominant emotion at the scene that confronted them. Her mother lay pale and bleeding on the floor whilst her father stood heaving his liquid meal up.

"Dad? What's happened," Rose looked around her incredulously she could not have believed that her father would hurt her mother but the evidence before her seemed to suggest that.

"I ..." her father shuttered.

Scorpius however had given his attention to her mother.

"Rose we need to get your mother some help, we need to get her to St Mungo's," he said urgently.

"They'll arrest Dad if we take her there," Rose said, a hint of panic in her tone.

Scorpius looked less than sympathetic.

"Please Scorpius we can't," she pleaded with her boyfriend.

"I'ill take her home, my Dad will know what to do," with that, Hermione already in his arms, Scorpius disappeared.

"What did you do Dad?" Rose asked one final time before following Scorpius with an angry 'pop'.

"What's happening?" Draco demanded appearing from the library as he heard the commotion in the hall way below.

"I'm not entirely sure," Scorpius told him, "It looks like she was involved in some sort of violent altercation with a drunken Mr Weasley."

Before he could finish Rose appeared, "Please help her Mr Malfoy, she is badly injured, she ought to go to St Mungo's but if I take her there and they discover what happened they will arrest my father, I can't believe he would deliberately hurt her."

Before Rose had finished Draco had rushed to Hermione's aid.

"I've never been especially good at healing charms Rose, this is a head injury, there could be serious brain damage. Rose, we can't risk that, we will have to take her to St. Mungo's."

Scorpius did not have chance to move nor Rose the chance to argue before Draco had lifted Hermione into his arms and disappeared. He reappeared in the emergency care unit of St. Mungo's, "Someone help", he called immediately, "she has a serious head injury." Healers quickly hurried around, a realisation that the witch in his arms was the famous Hermione Granger, speeding their attentions.

Although at first they gave Draco strange looks, implicit in those looks that he had some how been complicit in her injury, when Rose arrived a few moments later and explained how She and Scorpius had found her mother the looks stopped although none seemed to show the least contrition for suspecting Draco.

Rose, he noticed, had carefully avoided any mention of her father. As far as anyone at St. Mungo's knew Hermione had hit her head. It was lucky that Draco held Rose in such regard, for had he not he would not have refrained from ensuring the ginger idiot had a sudden visit from the Aurors.

The prognosis was not good, the healers placed Hermione in a medical induced comma to give her brain time to heal. They told Rose that if she regained consciousness within 48 hours of the potion that induced the comma wearing off she would be fine but if she did not their was a possibility that she might have permanent brain damage.

It was days before Hermione was fit enough for the healers to risk attempting to wake her. Draco had insisted on taking a turn at waiting by her side to give Rose a break although he did worry what Hermione's reaction might be when she saw him if she woke. "Surely we are beyond that point now, surely she trusts me enough to not be alarmed?" He reflected as he waited desperate for her to open those seductive brown eyes.

Draco had almost dosed off, after sleepless nights worrying if the Brightest Witch of Her Age would regain consciousness, if she would still have her mental faculties, desperately praying to whatever deity might be listening that she would not be brain damaged, he too was exhausted. Then he heard it;

"Draco?" She said quietly her voice rusty with lack of use, "what happened?"

Draco sighed in relief at the mention of his name, it wasn't just that she was awake but that she had not balked at his presence, that she had called him, familiarly, 'Draco'.

The healers insisted that Hermione was not well enough to be alone if they discharged her now, Hermione however insisted she was leaving so Draco insisted that she stay at the manor where he had an army of house elves who would willingly care for her.

Rose pleaded with her mother, "Please Mum you were seriously ill, allow someone to take care of you at least for a time."

Hermione felt brow beaten into submission.

It was days before Hermione even felt she had the strength to sit up in bed. They had told her she was lucky to have survived, she had apparently had a significant bleed on her brain, she was fortunate not to have lost her sight or to have permanent brain damage. Her eyesight was still a bit of a problem so she couldn't read and now she was feeling better, being bed ridden in Malfoy Manor meant that she was bored.

"Pinkie," she called reluctantly, the little house elf appeared with a characteristic pop.

"Yes Mistress Hermione," the elf asked respectfully, " how might Pinkie be helping you?"

"Is there something I could read please?"

The little house elf fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Pinkie is not being allowed to take books from Master Draco's library," she said sadly, "but Pinkie could ask Master Draco to help Mistress."

"Oh, no please don't bother him he has already been too kind," but the elf, desperate to help just disappeared.

Hermione closed her eyes and listened to the clock tick in the background. It might have been ten minutes, may be less, but then she sensed Draco had entered the room. He seemed to pause by her side. Hermione slowly opened her eyes.

He had turned away about to leave.

"Draco," she called, he stopped in his tracks.

"I thought you were asleep," he smiled, "how are you feeling?"

"Restless," she stated simply.

"You must be improving then?" He enquired.

"Yes, I was hoping to read a little?" She replied.

"How are your eyes?"

"A little blurred but I really need something to do Draco, I can't just lay here," she pleaded.

"What would you like?" He asked her with a winning smile, "comedy, tragedy, drama, romance, fiction, non-fiction?"

She didn't answer his enquiring instead asking, "I suppose you have an extensive library here?"

"Yes," he confessed, "when you are a little stronger I will show it to you."

"I would like a little fiction, please."

He nodded in response but said no more.

"Perhaps one of your favourites?"

He nodded again contemplatively before strolling out of the room.

Draco was unsure what to chose he wanted to show her the quality of wizarding literature but he was aware that if he chose one of his favourites it was a reflection of both his taste and personality. It took him almost an hour before he selected a book and took it back to her.

When he returned she had apparently dozed off, her hair was splayed across the pillow, "Sleeping Beauty" he thought.

He had only moments earlier seen an illustration of the tale, where the princess was given a draught of the living death potion and then cursed to only be woken by true loves kiss. "How ironic," he thought, "would that a simple kiss would break their curse." He so desperately wanted to kiss her at that moment but he would not dare.

He moved to place the book at her bedside but at that moment Hermione stirred.

It came out of his mouth before he could think about it: "Hello Sleeping Beauty, awake now?" Realising what he had said Draco blushed slightly like a love struck teenage. "I have found you a book," he handed the beautiful deep blue leather bound volume to her.

"' The Blue Flame'? I don't know this book," she said as she squinted at the title.

She opened the book and attempted to read only to put the book down in frustration, she couldn't see it clearly enough.

"Would you like me to read to you?" He asked tentatively not quite daring to meet her eye.

Hermione looked at him tilting her head to one side in consideration before she decided.

"Yes, please, if you would?"

Draco drew up a chair, took out reading glasses and began to read.

'A harsh scrapping noise signalled the final movement of the heavy marble slab...' Draco began. Hermione was quickly drawn in by the quality of his voice, he had lost that aristocratic drawl he had had as a boy. Hermione had always suspected it was an affectation. His deep smooth tone drew her in to the tale. It had grown dark, Hermione flicked her wand to light the room to give Draco light to read by. She thought she should tell him to stop and rest but she was too wrapped in the suspense of the tale.

'Even the sun looked like a dead thing, large and blood red, it was drowning in the smoke that rose from the battlefield. Over head carrion birds were gathering their cries and their wings stirring the air. The air was bitter that her over exerted lungs tried to breathe. Bitter was the taste of the blood that ran from her damaged lips. Bitter was the sound of weeping that split the dusk. Calli looked around her, there was no celebration, no one exalted in their victory, the cost had been too great. Legions of black and silver were spread on the green fields of battle. Enemies lay together brothers in death.'

Draco suddenly stopped reading. Hermione looked up startled questioning why he had stopped.

"We'll finish it tomorrow," he said rubbing what she thought must be a sore neck.

"Is he still alive? Does she find him?" Hermione knew the suspense would kill her.

"Tomorrow," Draco said a slight smirk on his face as he rose to leave the room.

"Draco Malfoy," she cried in exasperation, "you did that on purpose"

"Of course, have you forgotten I am an evil Slytherin," he laughed as she rolled her eyes at him.

He had always known that her conversation would be stimulating, she was too brilliant for it not to be. After he finished reading the book they discussed the plot. The hot topic of conversation was if the protagonists could really be at once both enemies and so deeply attracted to each other. Hermione was adamant it was unrealistic. Draco was determined it was not, look at "Romeo and Juliet" he pointed out.

" I always felt that was an unbelievable plot, regardless of the beauty of the playwright's language," she contended but Draco remained insistent because deep down he knew it was the truth, he knew you could be deeply attracted to your enemy because he had felt that attraction himself.

Over the next week they fell into a comfortable routine of him reading to her and then they would critique the work. On the sixth day Hermione, her eyesight recovered, offered to read one of her favourite books to him. She thought she might introduce him to one of her favourite muggle stories. Although she knew it was a risk, the tale was tragic verging on the melodramatic, she would defy anyone not to feel the loss and grief as Armand stood at Marguerite's grave as her body was exhumed.

When she had finished reading an uncomfortable tension filled the room, not the companionable silence she had experienced before, Draco looked pensive.

The book had been almost an allegory for their world, the prejudice and hypocrisy of the elite, their conceit and Marguerite's self sacrifice. Draco was shocked by the selflessness of the courtesan. He blamed this for his sudden attack of nobility.

Draco was of noble birth but he had never been very noble in the other sense of the word but he suddenly found he couldn't deceive Hermione anymore he had to tell her the whole truth about the curse.

After a tense silence he began:

"Hermione there is something I need to tell you."

He paused to take a deep breath and to look at her beautiful face, convinced it might be the last time he would see it. He watch her spine stiffen against the large pillows she rested on. It was as if she knew she had to steel herself for what was to come.

So he began at the beginning.

"I have always admired you, even back at school. In fifth year I used to sneak looks at you when I thought you weren't looking. Over time you became an obsession, I knew I could never be with you but I could dream. I used to dream that secretly you were the heir to a long lost pureblood family and that my parents consented to allow me to marry you."

"I had other fantasies too," he continued, "I imagined all kinds of little incidents where I would be forced into to your arms. Incidents where I could kiss you or hold you, where I could get away with it. I imagined being caught with you under enchanted mistletoe. I could kiss you then and pass it off as if I had no choice. I would imagine being caught with you in one of the enchanted broom closets. Where I would take my time to seduce you."

Hermione was very still almost as if she knew if she spoke or moved she would shatter his nerve so she sat there almost afraid to breathe.

"As time went on I wanted to be near you so I tried the only way I could, I teased you mercilessly. It was the only way I thought I could interact with you and I so wanted you to notice me."

"My dreams of you turned more lustful as we got older, you invaded my dreams as well as my waking thoughts..."

He trailed off and paused for a moment clearly lost in his memories. Hermione nodded her head to encourage him to continue.

" When my father forced me to take the dark mark I almost came to you for help, but my pride held me back and I was afraid after all I had done you would laugh in my face, reject me."

She looked about to protest but he cut her off before she could.

"I know now that you would not have rejected me, you are too kind and noble for that and I regret that I didn't speak up. After my failure on the astronomy tower that night, the Dark...Voldemort sought to punish me, he dug deep into my mind as he used the curcitius curse on me, the pain meant I could not defend my thought and there he must have seen you in my dreams."

He paused again to take another depth breath.

"He ordered me to kill you," he stated simply and emphatically,"he told me to kill you, to prove my loyalty."

He paused again:

'But it wasn't really to prove my loyalty," he said a note of bitterness in his tone "it was a punishment."

She was about to speak to show her forgiving nature. He could almost have predicted her words her forgiveness, but he held up his hand to stop her. He didn't need her forgiveness especially when she still didn't fully understand what he had done.

"There is more, I couldn't do it." He put his finger up to her lips 'shh'ing her, he could tell she was desperate to reassure him, but he had to finish. " I had you, my wand pressed to your heart and I had to let you go." She was still desperate to speak, "you kissed me," he finished, "you kissed me, it was a moment of bliss, a moment of light in the deepest abyss. “No!" He warned her, "I'm not finished there is more. I could not bear that you could know I had tried to kill you. I'm so sorry, it was inexcusable, I obviated your memory." He concluded breathlessly.

He watched her face intently for any reaction, she seemed stunned, she didn't say anything.

Hermione was stunned by his confession, it was she who had activated the curse. He had saved her, she knew what he said was true. It must have been there in her subconscious because she had dreamt it. She suddenly became aware that he was watching her intently for her reaction. His eyes were fearful, fearful of blame and rejection.

"May I see?" She asked. He looked confused for a fraction of a second before he consented.

"Legilimence."

She sifted her way through his memory until she found him, standing before her on one of the staircase of Hogwarts during the final battle. She could feel his conflicting emotions, the regret, the desire, the fear and his shock as her lips brushed his.

"I'm sorry Draco it was my fault," she began.

"How can you apologise to me," he screamed at her in frustration, "did you not hear what I said? I tried to kill you. I violated the sanctity of your mind, don't you dare apologise."

"Draco," she said gently trying to calm him, "you spared my life I owe you a far greater debt than anything you owe me."

"Please Draco," she cried, " I can't bear this."

He looked confused, "What can't you bear?"

"Draco Malfoy, you are a good man, you saved my life you can't punish yourself for that. If you hadn't saved me there would have been no Rose for Scorpius to love."

Draco contemplated this for a moment before seemingly accepting her words but before he could respond she spoke again.

" I used to imagine you in the book stacks in the library, you would brush by me, your breath would caress the nape of my neck as you helped me return a book to the higher shelves. I would turn into your arms and you would kiss me tenderly and call me beautiful."

She continued, "I would sit behind you in potions, imagining what it would be like to run my fingers through your fine flaxen hair, I would admire your jawline wondering how it would feel if I could pepper it with tiny kisses. I would look at your back, the sculptured muscles visible thorough your fine white summer shirt and ache to trace the lines of those long muscles with my hands. I wanted you Draco I could never admit it, I barely dare to admit it myself even now."

He was looking at her wide eyed now.

"I kissed you Draco, not out of pity, or thanks but because I thought it would be the only chance I would ever have to do so," she paused, "and now..." the words just hung there for a moment, "I just want you to hold me," she stated simply.

He stared at her unmoving but he was not unmoved, his pulse was pounding in his throat. He couldn't believe that she had wanted him too. In their fifth year she had become his muse he had longed for her so much and now he wanted her again. More than he had ever wanted her. Now it was possible if they could only break the curse. "Perhaps," he wondered, "if we give into the lust it will break the curse?".

"Come with me to the ministry Valentine's ball," he suddenly rushed out, "we have wasted half a lifetime, come with me, it's a masked ball no one need know it's you if you don't want, you can wear the 'Tears of the Phoenix' so I can recognise you, I will loan it you again, hell, I will give it to you a token of all that I owe you, all that I ought to have been able to give you."

Draco knew now beyond all doubt that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, he just needed to persuade her but he was hopeful now that he had a chance. She had confessed to being attracted to him, she knew he had changed. Draco succumbed to the most dangerous of ideas 'hope'.


	19. The Ministry Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A newly divorced Hermione makes a big impression at the Ministry Ball.

Hermione was yet again stunned as he gushed like a giddy school boy about her going to the Ministry ball with him. He sounded like he meant as a date and he had just offered to give her a gift worth millions of galleons but it was not this that stuck in Hermione's mind it was the phrase he had used; 'we have wasted half a lifetime,' had he meant by this what she thought he meant? That the rest of their life time they should be together?

Hermione took a long time before she responded. She would normally refuse such an expensive gift but this time she knew that he would be offended if she refused it. She understood it was a peace offering, a sign of his contrition. She knew she would have to accept it.

"Are you asking me on a date Mr Malfoy," she asked him a little saucily. His eyes went wide at the implications of her words but then he calmed himself.

"Yes, Ms Granger I am," he said most definitively.

Hermione smiled at the certainty and determination that appeared on his features.

"Then I accept, I will be the lady in the red gown wearing the Tears of the Phoenix jewels and the very long armed gloves."

He laughed at that last statement. "Yes, a wise precaution and I shall treat you with kid gloves."

"I look forward to it," Hermione concluded.

A few days after their conversation about Draco's orders from Voldemort Hermione was well enough to go to her own home. Even though many things were still not there and others were still not unpacked she felt she had imposed on the Malfoy hospitality long enough. She also wanted time to think about the future. What she would do once her divorce came through?

She had an appointment with Blaise later that same day. Blaise had informed her that Ron's assault on her, if she was prepared to acknowledge it, was grounds for divorce as an act of cruelty and there would therefore be no need to go through the adultery charade.

Hermione arrived at the offices of Blaise's law firm five minutes before her appointment. Blaise must have been having lunch with his wife since she crossed paths with Luna in the reception.

"Hermione," the blonde witch said smiling cheerfully. "It is so lovely to see you back on your feet. You look so well Draco really looked after you at Malfoy Manor."

Hermione was a little surprised that Luna knew where she had been staying. 'Was it common knowledge?' Hermione put that thought aside to greet her old friend.

"Luna, how are you?"

"Well, perhaps you have time to join me for lunch, Blaise is too busy, I just brought him his lunch?' The curly haired blonde asked looking hopeful without answering Hermione's initial enquiry after her health.

Hermione was still on sick leave so she really had as much time as she wished.

"I have an appointment with Blaise but if you can wait we could go to lunch when I've done?" Hermione suggested.

"Alright I will wait," Luna said as something caught her attention over Hermione's right shoulder. " Hermione is lunching with me today," she told her husband who had just appeared behind Hermione, "don't keep her too long."

Blaise stepped forward and placed an indulgent kiss on his wife's forehead. Hermione had the impression that Blaise couldn't refuse Luna anything and she wondered briefly how the unlikely pair had ever got together.

"Hermione, shall we, I wouldn't want to keep you ladies from your lunch," Blaise stated motioning Hermione to precede him into his office.

"It's lovely to see you looking so well, we were all quite frantic about you. Even Draco, I don't think I have ever seen him so concerned about anyone outside his family." Blaise paused as if in thought for a moment then shook his head as if what he was thinking was ridiculous, "but I suppose with Rose dating Scorpius you are almost family."

"Thank you," Hermione stated quite simply.

"Well down to business. Your divorce is not now likely to be the long drawn out business we at first thought it might be. Although your husband has avoid time in Azkaban. There was no evidence that he had directly caused the head injury. It was accepted that it was an accidental consequence of his assault on you and that he could not have foreseen you would land where you did. None the less, he has been charged with assault and this gives you grounds for an immediate divorce on the grounds of cruelty. The Wizengamot will not appose this, you will have their sympathies as the wronged party and you could doubtless take him for everything he owned if he were a rich man."

"We both know he is not Blaise, his poverty was always a humiliation to him and I don't want to reduce his circumstances further. I am content that we divorce and that he should continue to make some provision for his children."

"As you wish," Blaise said with a smile.

"You think me too soft?" Hermione queried.

"No, I think it is entirely characteristic of your generous nature," Blaise said his smile getting even larger. "I will see to it for you, you are likely to find yourself a free women within the fortnight. Now go and enjoy lunch with my wife."

Thus dismissed Hermione happily rose from her chair and left to re-join Luna in the anti-room to Blaise's office.

"Where shall we go?" She asked Luna.

"Somewhere quiet where we can talk and where the press can't reach you," Luna suggested.

Hermione realised Luna was right, what had happened to her was a big story and the press had not heard her side of it. She needed to keep out of the way.

"That sounds like it will be expensive," Hermione stated.

"It is, but needs must and besides Blaise is paying," said Luna with a laugh.

They arrived at the discrete up market restaurant and were shown quickly and efficiently to their table. The whole thing smooth and unlikely to draw attention to them. They sat and quickly perused the menu both of them ordering light meals. As she sat swirling the Pinot Grigio round the bowl of her glass Hermione's curiosity finally got the better of her.

"Luna may I ask you something a little personal?"

"Of course," Luna replied.

"How was it that you and Blaise got together?"

Luna responded immediately:

"It was after the battle of Hogwarts, we were both frantically looking for our friends and family amongst the dead and severely wounded. There was a little girl, a first year Hufflepuff, she was trapped under some falling debris the weight of the stone was crushing her she was crying out for help but I couldn't free her. My magic was exhausted and the weight of the stone was too much." Luna took a deep breath recalling this was clearly a painful memory even if it had led to something deep and meaningful.

"Blaise must have been close by, watching," she continued, "he came to help, freeing the girl, levitating the stone just enough to release the child but it was already too late and we both knew it, yet he stayed with her to help comfort her. I realised then that there was more to him than I thought. I realised that even a Slytherin could have compassion." Luna looked sad and far away for a moment. "He carried her so gently lifting her as lightly as if she were no more than a toy. He laid her down as if she might be his own child and I remember thinking what a wonderful father he would make. That was the start of it all I suppose."

Part of Hermione regretted asking. She had brought back sad memories for her friend but part of her recognised what her friend had said. They had all been prejudiced, she and her fellow Gryffindors too. They had all believed the Slytherins had all been worthless but she too had recognised that this was not the truth.

"So," Luna said more brightly, "what will you do when your divorce is finalised?"

"Date another man!" She said flippantly.

"Really?" Luna enquired.

"I was joking Luna," but then Hermione bit her lip, "although I did agree to go to the Valentine's ball at the Ministry with Draco".

Luna smiled at her, "you never used to call him Draco," was all the blonde witch said.

"No, I suppose I didn't," Hermione said reflectively.

For the remained of the lunch they discussed Hermione's plans for her ball gown and then her plans for her new home. By the early afternoon after another glass of wine Hermione was feeling nicely mellow and ready to settle for a quiet afternoon in her new home.

The ballroom was ablaze with thousands of candles that hung suspended like stars in the firmament. The ballroom floor was awash with a mass of humanity. The elite of wizarding society resplendent in their silk, satin and velvet robes. Their gems refracted the flickering flames which only served to intensify the depth of beauty within the stones, rubies blazed like fire, emeralds gleamed like oceans and diamonds shone like starlight. Trails of roses created paths across the black and white marble their bruised petals releasing a beautiful fragrance as they were crushed beneath the heels of the revellers. In the atrium a central fountain ran red from the oil of the red roses that floated in its bowl. The whole effect was incredibly enchanting and incredibly romantic.

The newly single Hermione arrived 5 minutes before the formal start of the ball. She wore a red velvet and satin gown its shawl collar bared her shoulders but it formed, between her shoulder blades, into a flowing red satin ribbon which cascaded to the floor to trailed in her wake as she walked. As promised, Hermione wore the 'Tears of the Phoenix', the jewels were ablaze in the candle light. The cabochon stones blazing with a heart of fire. Hermione scanned the room to find her date. As she had expected his blond hair made him far too obvious. Although there were other platinum manes none was so neat as Draco's, she recognised him immediately. Even though a silver mask, enamelled with black filigree, adorned the upper half of his face Hermione knew him, she would have known him anywhere.

Although Hermione had straightened her hair, which now hung deliciously as a thick glossy pelt down her back and even though her face was half masked in ruby red lace, Draco knew it was her. She had warn the jewels, they made her look like a pureblood princess, but in Draco's eyes she needed no adornment to outshine everyone in the room. Rose petals scattered in her wake as she moved across the room towards him Draco couldn't believe he had ever seen anything more stunning.

They made their way towards each other like magnets drawn through the crush of masquerading figures. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Hermione you look like a Goddess," he greeted taking her hand and bringing it to his lips in an action which belonged to another century but none the less spoke of his upbringing. Placing his hand on the small of her back Draco steered her towards the dance floor. She carefully placed her gloved hand upon his shoulder as he took her by the waist. He drew her slightly towards himself and they began a waltz joining the throng of couples on the dance floor. It was so crowded no one paid them any attention, or so it seemed to Draco and Hermione, as they waltzed and laughed and smiled truly enjoying each other's company.

Across the room angry eyes watched the handsome couple as they flowed across the floor. He glowered at them, seething with resentment towards the blond who he viewed as a thief, a man who had stolen all that he held dear and towards the brunette for her treacherous heart.

Ron Weasley threw back another glass of fire whiskey trying to numb the pain but nothing cooled his anger. He could never forgive them, he would never forgive them and he would have his revenge. Slamming the glass down on the bar he spun on his heels and marched outside to return to what had been their home.

After a waltz the tempo changed to a seductive tango. Hermione tried to sneak from the dance floor but Draco was having none of it. He knew she could dance he had seen her do so before and he would enjoy dancing this with her.

"Let's not live half a life," he said challenging her to join him. She conceded taking his hand to re-join him in the seductive dance.

The music, the subdued lighting, the warmth that radiated from him, the ghost of his breath that caressed her throat as he dipped her away from him. She was being seduced by him in public and she felt every minute nuance of that seduction. His hands caressed her sides, they skimmed her thighs feather light sending shivers down her spine. 'They call this a dance,' she thought to herself, 'It's not a dance it's dance floor porn.' Her thoughts drifted on as he forced his thigh between her legs pulling her impossibly close.

When the dance was over Hermione was flushed and flustered she needed to distance herself from him, it was too much.

"I need some air," she said pulling away from him. Draco looked momentarily crestfallen. But offered Hermione his arm to escort her out on to a terrace.

Draco felt like he was being tortured, he could taste his desire for her. His mouth salivated with the need to kiss her to feel his lips upon her skin as he held her in his arms, as he dipped her away and then reeled her in. Her eyes had become wide, her irises were almost black, there was a delicious blush across her checks and it had spread down her throat and chest all indicative of her desire for him. Draco wanted to scream from frustration, he knew this could not go on. Had she been frigid towards him; given him the cold shoulder, ignored him he might have borne it better but she gave him hope and he was becoming desperate to take that chance. Draco had convinced himself that the curse could be broken if they took a chance on each other and gave into their desire but could he persuade Hermione of this?

They continued to spend the evening dancing and laughing and as the evening drew to a close Draco's thoughts drift towards trying to spend more time with Hermione. Guests began to drift away the ballroom was clearing, it was time to go but Draco was so reluctant he wanted to spend every moment he could with her.

"I suppose I should go now," she said a note of reluctance in her voice.

"Just a little longer," his soft voice caressed her ear as they swayed together to the last of the music. She nodded her assent, 'could it be,' he wondered, 'that she was as reluctant to leave as he?'

As he thought this he had a sudden moment of inspiration. "Come with me," he demanded suddenly Hermione looked startled, "close your eyes," he insisted.

Reluctantly Hermione did as he asked:

"Where are we going?" She demanded

"It's a surprised but I did promise," he said enigmatically, "holding out his arm for her to take before instantly side along apparating them.


	20. After the Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things hot up in the Malfoy Library with unexpected consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has mature content-you have been warned!

Hermione opened her eyes as she heard the 'pop' of their dispparation. She looked around in wonder.

"I never did show you the library," Draco said smiling.

Hermione spun around in wonder, the ruby red ribbons of her gown flying out behind her as if she were an exquisite bird of paradise.

"Is this truly all yours?" She asked him breathlessly. The room seemed cavernous. The library was at least the size of that at Hogwarts.

"The collected works of many generations of Malfoys," he said proudly. "The oldest books in the collection predate the printing press. There are even some muggle books like the infamous, 'The Malleus Maleficarum,' a text that was instrumental in the introduction of the statue of secrecy." He stated as he led her by the hand through the library until they stood between the narrow stacks. "And here," he continued pointing upwards, "is a first edition of 'Hogwarts a History'." Hermione was virtually bouncing with excitement. "Why don't you get it down?" He asked. As she reached up he stepped closer his breath caressing her neck as she reached for the book. Of course it was too high. "Shall I help you he asked?" leaning in.

'Merlin,' she thought her heart pounding in her chest, 'Has he done this deliberately?' He knew she had fantasised about meeting him in the library stacks. He was so close again, she could feel his warmth, his firm chest pressed against her back, she could smell his cologne. Closing her eyes she leaned back against him.

"Draco," she sighed, "we can't do this," she said as she turned to face him. She was trapped now his hands were braced either side of her head.

"Why not?" He asked breathlessly, "I want you Hermione, more than I have ever wanted anything," his voice was a barely audible whisper now. "Who will it hurt? Don't you want this too?" He questioned.

Hermione didn't answer instead she peeled the long satin gloves slowly down her arms. Draco watched in wrapped anticipation it was unimaginable erotic to watch as she removed her gloves. She reached for his hand unbuttoning the small pearl button that held the kid gloves at his wrist. Draco was mesmerised by her beautiful tiny hands as they worked dextrously to remove his gloves. Both their hands were bare now, slowly, deliberately she match each fingertip to his. It shot fire through his veins, their fingers interlaced.

Draco's eyes were hooded now he had taken on that look of a starving wolf she had seen once before but she didn't care she wanted him to devour her, she wanted to tare at his skin, to claw at his back, to bite his lips. Their mouths collided like two juggernauts. This was the full force of the curse and she didn't care.

Draco tore at her gown pulling it down, she stepped away from it leaving her naked but for her burgundy lace pants and her black lace topped hold ups. Draco growled lifting her up until she wrapped her legs around his waist. She pulled at his shirt. Grasping fists full of the garment until the buttons gave and scattered across the library floor falling like hail on a window pane. Lowering herself to her feet she pushed his shirt from his shoulders taking the jacket off with it.

Hermione pulled back to feast her eyes, Draco Malfoy was not a man who had let himself go, he was toned his six abs still prominent, his chest was smooth like chiselled marble but Hermione noticed it was flawed. A livid scar dissected his torso from collar to hip bone, Hermione realised he must have concealed this that day in the Orangery. She knew what that scar was, she knew it was caused by Harry in their fifth year. Sorry that it marred his beauty she leaned in trailing kisses along its length. Draco shuddered as she reach his hipbone so close to that v of muscle that graced his loin. She ran her fingers round the waist band of his dress trousers unhooking the fastening with a smooth twist of her thumb and forefinger. She could feel his arousal as she force his trousers over his hips. They pooled at his feet and he eagerly kicked them aside and tore off his socks. Now they were equal he in his black boxers she in her burgundy lace he pulled her towards him, her breast flattened against his chested as he buried his face in her hair breathing in her scent. His hands skimmed her shoulders ghosted down her arms, skirted across her back and down her backside, his long fingers traced the crack between her cheeks. Hermione drew in a sharp breath, 'were they really doing this.' Hermione had a moment of clarity before she felt his fingers enter her. She threw back her head and ground her hips against his now engorged member.

They were both so fully aroused now it would take so little for their lust to spill over. Hermione pulled at his boxers her fingers caressing the delicate soft skin on his head. He was so full his skin was so soft she felt her mouth water. Forcing his hand aside she dropped to her knees he was engorged and she wanted to take him full in her mouth. Hermione wondered if she had ever heard anything more gorgeous than the way he sighed her name as she engulfed him.

"Hermione," he moaned his hands fisted in her hair as she worked her mouth around him.

Draco knew if he allowed her to continue he would be lost and he didn't want to be selfish. He gently eased her aside drawing her back up to his lips. He peppered kisses down her throat and down between her breasts. Taking a handful of her in his right hand whilst his mouth offered ministrations to her left. 

Hermione writhed against him, "enough," she suddenly commanded. Draco froze, she could not be rejecting him now. "I want you now," she demanded Draco was more than willing to oblige guiding himself into her wet passage.

Hermione let out a groan as she felt him inside her, 'Merlin he felt wonderful,' she could never get enough of him. If he drove her into the ground at this moment she would not have cared she wanted him as deep as he could go. She clawed at his back to force him deeper matching his rhythm, it was not long before she was screaming his name in ecstasy.

All it took for Draco to burst forth was to hear her scream his name. He had dreamt of this since he was fifteen years old. He could not believe that it was finally reality. She felt magnificent around him as her muscles pulsed against him in bliss. He never wanted to withdraw from her. If he died right now he would have considered himself fulfilled and his life worthwhile.

It was as if thought made it reality, he felt the blood engorge him again. He had never known that, he had usually needed a little while to recover but this was instantaneous. It seemed somehow wrong he knew something was wrong when it happened again. Rather than the usual post coital bliss he was immediately erect again. Draco knew he was good but this was something entirely different. He could have imagined it was the strong desire he had for her but when they began round four he knew it was the curse. Hermione now writhed in discomfort, he knew he was beginning to tare her apart. Blood tricked down her inner thighs. His back throbbed from where her nails had ripped into his flesh. His jaw bleed where she had bitten into it in her agony. She had teeth marks on her breasts a result of his insatiable desire. He knew they had to stop if he did not he would literally fuck her to death, the problem was he couldn't stop. By the fifth round she was clearly in pain, "Draco" she cried, "we have to stop."

"I know," he ground out but he couldn't stop his own parts beginning to feel tender and abused, "but I can't." Hermione continued to bite into his shoulder in her agony. "Pinkie," she screamed in her desperation. The tiny house elf immediately appeared but then looked mortified. Draco and Hermione were now tangled in each other's limbs by the library fire, their garments scattered the room.

"Wait," Hermione screamed as the embarrassed elf made ready to disappear, "we can't stop she managed to utter through gritted teeth."

"Pinkie help us," Draco managed, the sweat now pouring from his brow. The poor elf wrung his hands together, clearly distressed and conflicted.

"Make it stop," Hermione screamed at the now terrified elf. A moment later Draco felt himself thrown across the room. Panting he collapsed to the floor. His thighs screamed in agony, his back felt as if he had faced a cat o' nine tails. His abused manhood throbbed violently but he knew he was in better shape than Hermione. He crawled towards her she was slumped on the floor her mass of hair shielding most of her from view but she was bruised and bloody and as he neared her she recoiled. Draco was mortified and Hermione was horrified by the look of rejection that she saw in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry," he pleaded.

"You couldn't have known," she replied in a monotone, clearly in shock.

"Pinkie she needs help," he said anxiously to the now traumatised house elf, house elves were great healers and the little elf quickly got to work healing the trembling former Gryffindor.

An hour later the now exhausted pair sat wrapped in goose down duvets, a stiff drink in their hands. Neither had spoken for over an hour. In the end Draco could bear the silence no longer.

"I have ruined everything haven't I," he concluded.

Hermione raised her head to look at him, her eyes met his for the first time since Pinkie had parted them.

"No," she said emphatically, "it is not your fault Draco," she sighed deeply, "you did not cast this curse, but we know now that giving in to it is not the way to undo it."

She paused for a while, "I'm afraid Draco, afraid that this might happen again. I can't deny that I desire you, you have grown into a wonderful man. I think you are amazing and that is why I can't stay with you."

"What?" He spluttered in shock.

"There is too much between us we are too drawn to one another, we could never be safe around each other. I want you so much it hurts Draco. Even now I ache to comfort you but how can I?" She asked him desperately.

He didn't reply but his mind acknowledge the truth of what she had said he desired her too much to keep away from her.

"I have to leave," she concluded, "please don't try to contact me again," she swallowed, "but know this Draco I will never forget you. Don't stay alone Draco find someone...," she couldn't finish, she was trying to tell him not to wait for her but it choked her to say it.

"There will be no one else," he said empathically, "how could there be?" He questioned rhetorically, "how could anyone ever compare?"

She stood at that taking her clothes and shoes from the neat pile that Pinkie had placed them in. She was about to offer him back the necklace but he shook his head, "Don't you dare," he threatened, "it was a gift." She nodded in acknowledgement. She gave him a wane smile, tears threatening her eyes and she disapparated.

Hermione reappeared in her new home, "why?" she let out as a keening cry.


	21. Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation at the Weasley home has tragic consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning-Major character death.

Why had he ever thought that this was ever going to be anything other than hopeless. He hated Voldemort more than should be possible, Draco hoped that Voldemort was burning in the deepest fires of hell for what he had done to them. Voldemort had never had any intentions of allowing Hermione to survive, he had made sure that one way or another Draco would have killed her and that Draco would be destroyed by his own actions. Not only had Voldemort never intended that Hermione should survive but he had intended that Draco would either die with her or because of her. that Draco now understood would have meant his own parents would be destroyed by the loss of their son. 'What a rich vein of suffering Voldemort would have enjoyed.' Draco thought bitterly.

Draco felt consumed by guilt. They should never have given in to temptation and touched each other, the lust the curse had caused had coursed through their veins and led to the most passionate love making Draco had ever experienced but then he reflected they couldn't stop. Draco had been screaming inside to stop. He knew he had almost literally fucked Hermione to death. If it hadn't been for his house elf he would have. He could not bear that he had hurt her.

Now he knew he would never see her again, even she could not find a cure for this but he ached to hold her, ached to feel her lips on his. He couldn't be without her , not now, not after she had given him such hope.

"Fuck you Voldemort," he screamed as he threw the nearest object across the room. He could no longer hold it in, the anger and frustration snapped his self control. He kicked over the table, picked up a chair which he threw at the wall. It shattered into match sticks, he tore down the drapes. He continued this destruction until the room was in shreds, ruined like his life and then he sank panting to his knees and wept.

"I should have been braver," he told himself, "I should have been braver much sooner, before the war, before the curse, before all this had ever happened. I should have told her how I felt at the very start when I saw how beautiful she was, when I was only 15. I should have made better choices."

Rose giggled as she and Scorpius apparated into her childhood home. They had been at the Ministry Ball but they decided to sneak away early. The glamorous young couple wanted some time alone. Rose, dressed in emerald satin, wearing her mother's Romanov jewels sashayed up the stairs, her face still masked from the ball. Scorpius in his black dress robes and black mask, his blond hair shining in the dimmed light of the hallway, beamed at his girlfriend as she beckoned Scorpius to follow her. She giggling at her attempts to be seductive. Scorpius raced up the stairs behind her but as he reached her he suddenly stopped his face falling at the sight that loomed behind her.

Rose turned, "Dad?" She was about to say but her words never formed on her lips.

"You?" Her father roared at Scorpius as he roughly pushed Rose aside through the open bedroom door. Rose stumbled and fell into the room as she saw her father march unsteadily towards her boyfriend.

"It wasn't enough was it ?" Ron Weasley snarled at the alarmed young man. "You had everything Malfoy, everything all of it, the looks, the brains, the money and it still wasn't enough you had to have her too."

Scorpius realised suddenly that Mr Weasley had confused him with his father but it was too late. Ron launched himself at the younger man who lost his footing tumbling backwards down the stairs.

By the time Rose had got back to her feet all was very still. Her father stood frozen near the top of the stairs and Scorpius...

"Scorpius," she screamed moving as fast as she could to the foot of the stairs. He didn't move.

"Scorpius," she screamed again her volume increasing with her rising hysteria. She began to shake him violently but as she did his head lolled to the side laying at a strangely acute angle. "No, no, no!" she howled desperately, "no you can't, I won't let you, come back," she sobbed. Great heart renting sobs left her throat. "Scorpius wake up, come back to me!" Rose howled.

"Do something Rose," she began berating herself, she began to try every healing spell she knew, but nothing was effective Scorpius eyes still stared their grey blue depths now dull and glassy but Rose refused to give in desperately she pounded on his chest trying in vain to make his heart beat again but he remained unresponsive.

"Mum," Rose said hopeful she focused and cast her petronius, how she managed this, when she reflected in later years, she would never know but moments later her mother appeared. Rose never noticed her mother's dishevelled appearance. She would never know where her mother had been her distress was too great.

"Bring him back," Rose pleaded desperately with her mother, "please mum bring him back," the younger witch sobbed her heart breaking.

Hermione moved towards the still form of the blond boy, so eerily like his father, she did not need any confirmation he was dead his neck was clearly broken but for Rose's sake she check for a pulse. There was none, it was too late.

"Rose," she said gently to her daughter, "sweetheart," she continued, "come and say goodbye."

Hermione took her daughter's hand and drew her towards the beautiful blond boy. She lifted her daughter's hand and placed Scorpius hand in it. "Say goodbye darling," she said again. Hermione could not bear to look he was a beautiful young man and Rose had adored him. Hermione looked away as Rose tenderly pressed her lips to his. "Wait for me," she told him.

Hermione swallowed hard. Her thoughts in disarray she could not remain unmoved by this. Even had it not been for Rose's anguish she would have still cried. She cried for her daughter's lost love, she cried because he was a wonderful young man and she cried because this was Draco's only son and she feared that this loss would destroy the man she now knew she loved.

Throughout all this Ron had stood frozen, his drink fogged braining unable to process what was going on. It was only when Hermione appeared in her red gown that some comprehension began to form and he took in the prone form at the foot of the stairs.

Only now did Ron realise that Hermione had been wearing red and that this was not Malfoy but his son. As realisation finally dawned he slid down the wall. He knew there was no way back from this, neither woman would ever forgive him and if not Malfoy then the Malfoy matriarch would ensure that he rotted in Azkaban for the rest of his natural life. He contemplated the thought that it might be better to end it quickly. Turning his wand on himself he was about to do it but he felt his wand leave his hand.

She glared at him like an avenging angel.

"You will not deprive Rose or his loved ones of justice," she told him spitting venom, "you will not deprive them of their vengeance."

As she bore down on him, multiple 'cracks' of apparition could be heard, Aurors and healers appeared but as Hermione knew it was all far too late.

Before they could take him away Hermione gently closed Scorpius eyes and brushed the soft platinum locks from his face. He had begun to turn ashen the pink flush of life leaving his body but she couldn't help but think how angelic he looked. 

"Poor beautiful boy," she said quietly to herself, "this is my fault," She thought, the guilt chilling her soul, 'If I had not left Ron. None of this would have happened."

Hermione knew that Narcissa would be inconsolable and Draco would be destroyed but she could not bring herself to see them. She had of course sent her condolences but nothing assuaged her guilt. She had made excuses about Rose needing her but in reality she was too guilt ridden. She didn't think she could look at either of them without seeing the still form of the innocence young man who had been caught in the crossfire of Ron Weasley's burning jealousy.

Ron was now in Azkaban awaiting trial, it was unlikely that he would ever see the light of day again. As she was already divorced from him she was no longer Ron's 'next of kin' that was now their children but neither child wished to acknowledge their father.

Ron had attempted to apologise, sending Harry with the message but Hermione had already had enough of Ron's easy words and Rose did not care to listen to anyone about anything. She had withdrawn into her own mind and Hermione could only hope that she would return to her when she had done some of her grieving. It wasn't until four days after Scorpius' death that Rose finally spoke.

Blaise had arrived that morning. He was also the Malfoy family lawyer. He came to read part of Scorpius' will to Rose. It was unusual for one so young to have a will Hermione thought but then he was the heir to a vast fortune so perhaps not.

Hermione zoned out of much of Blaise's preamble but then he got to the heart of the matter. Quite literally as it turned out.

To Rose Granger Weasley I do bequeath the blue sapphire the Heart of Venus and ask that she wear it to remind her that; she should not forget me but she needs to live her life.

'May be you have to know the darkness before you can appreciate the light-don't forget me Rose', he had added a codicil in his own hand, 'but remember to live, love and enjoy laughter.'

Rose had looked at her mother then, "How will I go on without him?" She had asked.

"You will," Hermione had told her, "because you honour his memory and he has asked it of you."

Hermione watched as her daughter took the pendant holding the Heart of Venus and passed it over her head, straightened her back and said to a spirit she hoped could hear: "I will because you ask it of me."

Hermione knew Rose was young and she prayed that time would heal her enough that she could move on with her life.

That same day Hermione received a plea for help from an unexpected quarter. Narcissa Malfoy begged her to come to the manor. Hermione knew she could not avoid them forever and they were grieving so reluctantly she agree to return with the little house elf that Narcissa had sent.


	22. Sonata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is inconsolably after Scorpius death can Hermione do anything to help him recover?

Immediately Hermione entered the Manor she heard it, Draco's impassioned playing. No one who heard that music would ever forget it. He was pouring everything he had into his performance, every ounce of his feelings. Every phrase, every note spoke of anguish and betrayal. There was sorrow and despair and anger. He played as if his soul were burning.

"Hermione," Narcissa ran to her, "you came, he won't talk to me. He has been in there for three days, he hasn't eaten, he hasn't slept, he has just played the 3rd movement of that damned sonata over and over again. No one can get through to him. Blaise has tried, I have tried, we even sent Pinkie in to try. There is no reaction, he sees nothing. No one. I fear for his sanity Hermione, I fear for his life."

Narcissa wrung her hands in desperation.

"Please try to get through to him." She pleaded. Unspoken in that plea was the fear Narcissa couldn't express, that she could not lose her son too.

Hermione walked towards the doors of the small dining room.

"I will try," she said quietly.

Hermione cautiously opened the doors and entered the room. He showed no signs of having seen her. She took out a pair of kid gloves from her pocket and put them on. She wanted to be able to offer as much comfort as she could. She walked toward the piano. The sky was dark outside it looked like a veil rent through by cruel sharp claws of moonlight. It reflected well the mood of those under its sway. Even though Draco sat by the window, where the moon's cold light pierced the gloom, his face was in shadow. She walked slowly towards him, fearful that in his emotional state he might unleash raw magic.

As she got nearer the volume and intensity of the music, for he had not ceased playing, became almost painful but she did not take her eyes off him. When she was almost upon him she saw his tear streaked face. His eyes red rimmed but glassy. He looked like a wraith, the sight tore at Hermione’s heart.

"Draco," she said gently, nothing happened it was as if she were a ghost.

"Draco," she tried again, still nothing.

Carefully she moved to close the piano keyboard. He instinctively jerked away to protect his hands. Then he looked into her face. Hermione saw it, a moment of recognition before he dropped his forehead onto her abdomen. "Is it really you?" He questioned his voice raw with emotion.

"Yes," she said more calmly than she felt, "it is me."

"Hermione," he sobbed. He said her name in away that expressed all his grief and anguish. It said, 'my son is gone, I am the last of my line, I have nothing left to live for'.

Hermione knew no words would comfort him but she wanted so much to hug him close. With the fine kid gloves secure on her hands she ran her arms around his shoulders and pulled him in. She yearned to ease his pain. Whatever she could do she for him she would do it.

"I'm here," she said. Her voice seemed to calm him, "I'm here for you."

She stayed there with him like that for a long time. In the end it was his care for her wellbeing that brought him to eat and drink. He ate and drank mechanically. He showed no enjoyment of what he ate but Hermione knew the important thing, for now, was that it would sustain him.

Never had Hermione hated Voldemort so much as she did that day. So desperately did she want to caress Draco to sooth his grief and still she couldn't touch him. Even if there had been times before when the lust the curse created had been close to the reality of how they both felt, this was not such a time and it would be an abuse to touch him.

She had managed to move him from the piano to one of the couches that sat by the fire. He lay now his head cradled in her lap apparently asleep. Gently, kid gloves still on her hands, she stoked his fine blond hair to sooth him.

"Draco, my love, I would do anything to ease your pain," she whispered softly believing him asleep. Unbeknown to Hermione he had heard her and the love and kindness in her voice did ease his pain. Although he barely recognised the thoughts he knew on some unconscious level that she was here and he still had something to live for.


	23. Sicilian Widow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione does her best to support Draco as he says goodbye to his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last of the 'sad' chapters-the next one will have a shift of tone.

Hermione assessed her appearance in the mirror before she apparated into the grounds of Malfoy Manor for Scorpius interment. She looked like a Sicilian widow; black silk dress beneath her black robes, black kid gloves on her hands, dark Ray-Bans covering her eyes even though there was no sun. The sky was bleached clean of any colour, snow flurries played around the mourners as the filed into the small chapel on the Malfoy estate. Scorpius lay there in state, his deathly paler contrasting violently with the petals of a single red rose her daughter had placed against his now grey lips. Hermione closed her eyes to shut away the tears that fought their way to the surface as Rose bent forward to kiss Scorpius goodbye. Rose trembled, trying to maintain her composer as the lid was finally placed on the casket. Rose wept silently as she and her mother joined the line of sombre mourners as they moved outside towards the imposing mausoleum, tear tracks visibly stained Rose's checks. Narcissa stood straight and proud, stoic, but Hermione knew it was an act Narcissa, like her son, was broken. They were the last of their line. The Malfoy name would die with Draco. Narcissa had openly expressed so little of how she felt but there had been one clear coherent thought uttered aloud; 'what had it all been for?' The older women had asked Hermione, Hermione could provide no answer.

She watch the dried leaves chase and tumble across the floor as she followed the principle mourners into the imposing Malfoy tomb. The minster began the service, Hermione tuned out, she stood behind Draco's right shoulder as Scorpius was lowered to his final resting place. There was a soft thud as the casket reached the floor of the sarcophagus. Draco flinched his hand reached out behind him, beseeching her to hold it, seeking her comfort. Hermione took his hand and squeezed it gently moving to Draco's side, hiding their clasped hands in the folds of her robes. Hermione could see the tension in Draco's jaw, she could almost hear him chant the mantra; 'Malfoys don't cry, Malfoys don't cry''.

Hermione wanted to tell him he could cry, to let it all out; 'who would it hurt?' she wanted to ask but she realised that too would be too painful for him. in the end she did what he needed, she held his hand. She reassured him that he was not alone.

When it was all over and the last of the guest had left the wake, Hermione and Rose stood to leave too. Rose had barely been able to look at Draco, Hermione understood why, he was a painful reminder of the love she had lost. Rose hugged Narcissa tightly then with a nod of respectful acknowledgement to Draco she threw her floo powder into the fire and disappeared. Hermione stepped forward replacing the dark glasses she had worn to hide the threatening tears before she moved towards Draco to bid him farewell.

Draco rose to silently offered her his hand for a formal hand shake. Hermione couldn't bear it, tears that she had held at bay welled in her eyes as she looked at this tall, broken man before her. She took his hand between both of hers, encasing it with her small grip. She looked up at him then, he looked startled, desperate but she had no more words of comfort she could offer him. Without thinking she raised his gloved palm to her lips and kissed it. She turned, took a quick handful of floo powder, called out her address and disappeared leaving astonishment in her wake.

It had been such an intimate gesture, Draco, now alone with his mother, just stood and stared at the palm of his hand-numb. His brain, so thick with grief, could not process Hermione's action or what it might mean. 

Narcissa had however seen this too, a very small spark of hope flickered in her chest. Had she seen what she had thought she had seen in that small exchange? 'What irony it would be,' Narcissa thought, 'if the only hope for the Malfoy name was a muggleborn witch.'


	24. A very obvious Malfoy Trait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is keeping a very precious secret, what will happen when Draco finds out?

February came and went, spring merged towards early summer. The muggleborn witch saw nothing of the handsome pureblood she had come to love but he was ever on her mind. It was twelve weeks since she had seen him and she knew she needed to speak to him soon. She had tried...she had written letters that she couldn't send, stood with hands full of floo powder ready to floo to his home but unable to speak his address. Defeated she would throw herself on her couch and stare blankly at the art work on her wall. It was just a print on canvas with some gold leaf to create some semblance of the artist's original work. Klimt's 'The Kiss,' she had bought it in happy times when she and Ron had first been together, now it haunted her like the curse that defiled her love for Draco. She knew it was childish but she stood abruptly and turned the painting to face the wall. She would not be mocked by this art and so it had remained, face to the wall throughout the spring and into summer. Hermione eyed the artwork petulantly, but she refused to turn it back and she stood to go to her appointment with her lawyer.  
Blaise was, as always, polite and charming but she had been in his office, outlining the details of her revised will, for little more than 10 minutes when he looked at her as if she had announced that Voldemort had arisen again.  
“Who’s the father?” Blaise demanded to know.  
“Is the child’s paternity really an issue in this day and age as long as adequate provision is made for the child’s wellbeing?” Hermione replied bristling at Blaise’s demand.  
“Hermione,” Blaise began gently, “if the father is Draco, as I believe he is, you need to tell him.”  
“And what would Draco do?” Hermione shot back frostily.  
“He would marry you, acknowledge his child…”  
“Would he,” she interrupted, “marry a mudblood?”  
“You can’t truly think he still believes all that?” Blaise challenged her.  
Hermione broke down in tears.  
“I can’t tell him Blaise,” she sobbed, “I know you are right, Draco would do the noble thing and then what? We are cursed. There would be no happily ever after-I can’t condemn him to a wife he cannot touch.” She told the dark haired wizard.  
“Is that solely your decision to make?” Blaise challenged her.  
After a moments silence Hermione changed the subject signalling that she would say no more on the subject.  
“In the event of my death I wish to nominate Harry and Ginny as my children’s guardians…”  
Blaise knew the subject was closed but he’d be damned if he didn’t find a way to let Draco know that he might still have an heir. Draco was a broken man, hopeless and Blaise would do anything he could to change that.  
***

Blaise and Luna were having a late spring gathering and Hermione had promised Luna she would go. It was warm and Hermione selected a light silk wrap-over dress. It was a favourite. She pulled the dress on over the ivory silk chemise she wore as a foundation garment. The dress was hand painted with a boarder of poppies in a summer meadow, it was light and delicate and she loved the way it floated on the breeze. She began to braid her hair but changed her mind deciding instead to leave it loose. Moving to her jewellery box she looked to find a small broach she often wore to hold the front of the dress together. She lifted the lid absentmindedly poking her hands into the box without looking. Something sharp caught her hand and she watch as a droplet of blood fell on to the Tears of the Phoenix. The blood ran red down one of the diamonds turning it momentarily to a blood ruby. She had forgotten this beautiful gift, how apt it now seemed this gift from a man whose association with her seemed to bring nothing but blood and tears. She slammed the lid shut leaving the broach and recklessly, careless of whether she showed some cleavage or not, she left.  
It was dusk as Hermione arrived at Blaise and Luna's home the sun was setting; pale crimson and lavender sketch the horizon. Tiny Chinese lanterns floated along the path lighting the way to their gardens. Like Malfoy Manor, the grounds of Blaise's home were extensive, as Hermione made her way towards the gathered guests she crossed terraces that turned to formal lawns, which gave way to rose gardens that led towards a crystalline lake.  
Hermione spotted her hostess before Luna had seen her. The waves of the younger witch's blonde hair catching the dying embers of the sun's light. Hermione thought Luna had not seen her as she approached, Blaise was smiling brightly at her but Luna seemed transfix by something behind the brunette.  
Draco knew it was her, he would have recognised that vast mane of curls anywhere. He followed her across Zabini's lawn, watching as the delicate fabric of her dress flowed around her beautiful form as she walked.  
Draco chastised himself for these thought but then he realised they were perhaps the first pleasant thoughts he had had in weeks. She seemed suddenly aware that he was behind her as she turned she took his breath away. Her skin seemed to glow in the fading light, he had forgotten how beautiful she was.  
"Hermione, Draco," the blonde witch greeted her guests warmly, "I'm so delighted you could both come."  
"Draco," Blaise acknowledged his friend, "Hermione, how are you doing now?"  
Draco looked at his old friend confused. Had she been ill?  
"What's the matter with you?" He blurted out unable to control himself.  
"You don't know?" Blaise asked incredulously looking from his friend to the brunette who was suddenly intent on staring at her feet. Of course Blaise, the consummate Slytherin knew exactly what he was saying. His apparent slip a deliberate ploy.  
Luna intervened, "Come Blaise my love, Hermione and Draco need to have a little talk first, although there is something I urgently need to tell you both before you leave. Promise me you will speak to me before you go." Luna said most insistently. Both acquiesced before the blonde walked away pulling her husband with her.  
It was Draco who broke the silence.  
"What haven't you told me?" He enquired quietly knowing that to raise his voice to her would only spook her.  
She didn't speak instead she smoothed the folds in the front of her dress placing both her palms on her slightly rounded stomach. She watched his finely chiselled face intently, watched as a full gambit of emotions raced across his features finally resting on wide eyed astonishment.  
"Is it..." he seemed unable to complete the sentence moving instead to place his palm against her stomach just below Hermione's own petite hands, "...is it mine?" He asked hesitantly hardly daring to hope, hardly daring to breathe.  
"Yes," she stated simply.  
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He asked her suddenly looking hurt as the realisation dawned that she might never have told him.  
"I tried," she pleaded, "I couldn't."  
"You don't trust me?" He asked looking skywards to hide the tears that were forming in his eyes, "I thought we were beyond that."  
"No, I mean yes… oh Merlin I'm making a mess of this." She took a breath steeling herself to start again.  
"Draco," she began placing her hand on his sleeve and imploring him to look at her, "you were grieving, first I wanted to let you grieve. Then I was fearful that you wouldn't want me or a half-blood child." Draco began to protest but she silenced him, holding her finger to her lips she continued, "Then I remembered the curse, how could you be with me? How could you marry me and acknowledge your child without condemning yourself to a life of misery a life of celibacy or worse?"  
"That wasn't your decision to make alone,” Draco sighed, echoing Blaise’s words, “what would the world believe of me if I would not acknowledge our child? Wouldn't it speak volumes of an old unforgotten prejudice? Wouldn't they condemn me anew?"  
"No one need know," she claimed, "I could go away live in the muggle world"  
"And what when the child's magic began to show? What then Hermione?" He questioned her.  
"I could claim a muggle father," she persisted  
He scoffed, "No one would believe you?"  
"Why?' She questioned desperate now to see a solution  
"Because this," he said tugging at his platinum locks, " this always breeds true and it is a very obvious Malfoy trait."  
Hermione looked up at him defeated. "I'm sorry Draco," she said, " I don't know what else to do."  
"Marry me, let me acknowledge my child, I am unlikely to ever have another heir and I don't want our child tainted by gossip and scandal."  
She didn't say anything.  
"Hermione," he said desperately.  
She laughed, but it was mirthless, "tainted by gossip and scandal," she repeated his words "could we even appear together in public without the taint of gossip and scandal? Would our pasts not haunt us and our child?"  
"I don't care," he was shouting now, drawing unwanted attention.  
"Draco," a quiet voice suddenly spoke from behind them it was Luna, "perhaps you could take your conversation indoors, there is something I would like to tell you."  
Draco ran his hands through his hair in frustration but he followed their mutual friend none the less.  
When they were inside Luna motions to them to sit.  
"There is something you need to know before you make any rash decisions," Luna began neither of her companions spoke, so she continued.  
"Blaise told me about the curse," Draco pursed his lips in aggravation while Hermione sighed and closed her eyes against what was to come. "I have done some research there is a way to break it."  
"Oh yeah, well we tried that and the alternative is a little less attractive," Draco said his old sarcastic tone resurfacing.  
Luna simply ignored him turning instead to Hermione, hoping that she would be the voice of reason.  
"What is the one thing Voldemort would never have expected you to do?"  
"I think we already tried that Luna," Hermione said more calmly.  
"Oh, no not that," the blonde witch said with a chuck, suddenly realising what they had both meant.  
"What would Lucius have never allowed you to do?"  
Draco looked up realisation sparking in his eyes, "Marry a muggle-born," he said.  
"Yes," Luna said tentatively, “because a pureblood wedding would involve what type of vows?" She asked leading them through the thought process.  
"Unbreakable," they both said in unison.  
"I believe that the unbreakable marriage vow would negate the curse or at least lessen it."  
Hermione looked confused.  
Draco looked like he hardly dared hope.  
"Unbreakable marriage vows are not just to keep the couple together," Luna began to explain, "they intensify the couples emotions, allow you to feel each other's love, the love would help protect you from the negative effects of the curse..."  
"Are you certain of this Luna," Draco interrupted.  
"Almost," the former Ravenclaw replied.  
"Almost?" Hermione enquired.  
"Well no curse is unbreakable but the clever method of thwarting the curse breakers is to make the counter-curse something that neither party would ever wish to do. In your case the curse seems to be breakable only by death or marriage."  
Draco nodded taking in the rationale of her words. He looked at Hermione,  
"We can't be certain Draco," Hermione responded cautiously but he wasn't listening he was on his knees at her feet.  
"Hermione Granger," he began, "I would take your hand at this moment, if I dare...but this will have to suffice, marry me, give our child a chance, show the world that a Gryffindor and Slytherin can love each other, that a man like me can change."  
She didn't respond but he took her silence as encouragement.  
"I know you don't owe me anything, I know I don't deserve you, but please Hermione give us a chance. Acknowledge me as the father of your child and I will stand Full Square with you against the whole wizarding world if I have to."  
Hermione still didn't speak, she thought he was wrong, she did owe him something she owed him a son. But she wouldn't marry him out of guilt, she would marry him because she knew he was a better man than the world supposed. If their union helped prove this she would welcome it and if the world censured her she would not care because she loved him. She knew it would be difficult. She knew that Rose may find it hard, that Harry might not understand but she believed this man, on his knees before her, was worth the risk.  
"Hermione," she could hear the panic in his voice.  
"Yes Draco," she said, he stilled holding his breath, "I will marry you."  
"Oh Merlin," Draco said running his hands thorough his hair, I want to kiss you so much; I thought you would reject me. Hermione smiled at him he was like as giddy school boy again.


	25. Unbreakable Vows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a painful conversation with Rose, Hermione and Draco finally tie the knot.

The conversation Hermione had with her daughter in the headmistress' study at Hogwarts, in the summer before Rose graduated, was possibly the most painful she had had in her life. Hermione had steeled herself as best she could, uncertain of the reaction her children might have to the announcement that she was going to marry Draco Malfoy. She hoped that Rose would agree to be her bridesmaid but alas that was not meant to be.

Hugo took the news well enough, wished his mother well and asked if he could be excused because he had quidditch practice. Rose, however, looked at her mother for a long time in contemplative silence.

“So it was true?” Rose said finally breaking the silence. It was as much an acquisition as a question but Hermione was confused.

“What was true?” she asked seeking clarification.

“What my father said that night, you and Mr Malfoy were already together, and that’s why Scorpius died.”

Rose didn’t say it but Hermione felt the words in the tension in the air; ‘it was your fault too.’ 

Rose left without another word. Hermione stood there stunned, it was sometime before she collected herself and it was a familiar voice that called her out of her reverie. 

“Make him happy Ms Granger, he deserves it.” It was Snape’s portrait. Snape had always been a man of few words but he focused her mind back on how important Draco had become in her life. 

“I Will professor,” she quietly reassured him, “I will.”

In the end Rose decided not to attend her mother's wedding. It was a small affair, the antithesis of what one might expect of a Malfoy, just her parents, Narcissa, Harry and Ginny, Blaise and Luna. Hermione had worried that Harry would not understand her relationship with Draco but she had underestimated her friend. Harry knew that Draco was a changed man. Although they had met rarely there had been that incident with the time turner when Albus and Scorpius had got themselves into some serious trouble and Harry and Draco had buried the hatchet to save their sons. They had come away from that incident with a mutual respect and Harry was now quite willing to accept Draco as his best friend's husband.

Hermione wore a simple white wedding dress she still hadn't developed a significant baby bump and some discrete drapes in the silk chiffon gown disguised the slight swell of her stomach. Jasmine flowers in her hair and a simple silk tulle veil floated behind her as she walked towards Draco. Her look was simple and elegant and Draco couldn't take his eye from her.

Draco stood tall and still, a blue silk cravat brought out the colours in his eyes making them look a beautiful pastel shade of blue. She drew herself up as he looked at her in adoration. She wasn’t sure she had ever felt as truly beautiful as she did under her soon to be husband’s gaze. As Hermione reached the altar her father passed her hand to Draco's grey gloved fingers. They stood to face each other then the ceremony began. Hermione saw nothing but Draco’s face, a mixture of excitement and apprehension shortening her breath. Soon it was time to exchange their rings it was with extreme care that they placed the simple gold bands on each other's fingers. They could not risk an accidental touch before the ceremony was complete. Finally the presiding wizard was ready to cast the spell to create the unbreakable vow. They knew they would have to touch each other for this. Hermione prayed it would only take a moment, she grasped Draco's wrist as he took hers, she heard him take a sharp intake of breath as she tried to slow her heart which was now racing as the charge of his touch threaded through her veins. She watched breathless as a golden rope of light tied itself around their joined hands. As the light of the bond faded Hermione felt a feeling of warmth and calm overcome her.

Still holding his hand she found she could breathe normally, had it worked?

"You may now kiss the bride," the presiding wizard announced. This was it the moment of truth. Draco leaned in towards her, this kiss was so different to how they had been before. It was gentle and tender and Hermione adored it. She lifted her hands to cup his face revelling in the softness of his freshly shaven skin.  
She laughed then with joy, it had worked.

The new Mr and Mrs Malfoy had a number of plans following their wedding. It was a bucket list and began with Draco insisting that he propose again, so he could place her engagement ring on her hand this time. She laughed and asked him what if she said "no" this time. Draco just chuckled and said he didn't care because she had taken the unbreakable vow anyway. It was a magnificent ring the pear shaped emerald was held in the jaws of a white gold snake and supported by a pave diamond studded tail. It screamed wealth but it was tasteful and Hermione loved it because Draco had designed it for her.

Then there was the honeymoon, he could have taken her anywhere in the world but he took her to Hogwarts on a holiday weekend when the school was empty and the students away. Hermione was puzzled at first but then he told her there were enchanted broom cupboards and library stacks they needed to explore and she understood then that he planned to allow them to act out their youthful fantasies and she loved him all the more for it.

They began their honeymoon in front of the doors to the Great Hall. As they approached the doors Draco began to explain why he had brought her here.

"When we had the Yule Ball in the fourth year I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I didn't know what to do. I felt conflicted because I knew I shouldn't admire you. In my world view, at that time, you shouldn't be so desirable." He smiled, a flicker of regret crossing his face. "I wanted so much to dance with you, to hold you against me and put my hands on your waist but I wouldn't dare. If word had got to my father…" he trailed off. "I hoped for the possibility that we might be stuck under one of the enchanted bunches of mistletoe, how could I not kiss you then? Regretfully it didn't happen."

Hermione had listened with rapt attention to his words. She smiled when he had finished.

"Come with me," she said holding out a hand for him to follow. They walked in companionable silence towards the door to the Great Hall. As they reached it Hermione slowed.

"Close your eyes," she whispered.

Draco heard a number of incantations some of which he did not recognise. Then he felt her breath upon his neck before she whispered finally;

"You can look now."

She had transfigured her robes to resemble the gown she had worn that evening. The same shade of periwinkle blue, her hair was similarly smooth.

"One finishing touch," she waved her wand at him. His clothes reformed into the dress robes he had worn, black velvet, the lining silver, the collar high.  
‘How had she known?’ he wondered.

"It's just…"

"The same," she finished for him with a beaming smile, "I know; you don't imagine I didn't notice you too?" she began to explain. "I saw you immediately I entered the room. I braced myself for a sneer or a disparaging comment. It never came. You must have let your guard down because there, for a moment, behind your eyes I saw something else. Something other than the cold sneering boy I had always imagined you to be and for the first time I was curious. May be that was the moment for me?" she concluded.

He offered his arm, she took it wrapping her arm around his.  
"Shall we?" she questioned stepping forward as the great oak doors swung inwards.  
Draco marvelled at the scene. It was just how it had been. The walls of the hall were frosted with silver. Garlands of ivy and mistletoe hung across the starry black ceiling just as it had done before but now there were no crowds. This time it was only the two of them. The music struck up and Draco finally got to place his hands around her waist as the dance began. Their dance flowed flawlessly with the music both partners being elegant and accomplished dancers. It was certain that had there been an audience they would have been admired greatly.  
When finally, the last bars of the melody faded they stood in each other's arms. Breathless their eyes alight with desire. Draco stepped a little closer and as he did the mistletoe bloomed overhead. He leaned towards her. It seemed an age before his lips touched hers but when they did he remembered how sweet she tasted. He kissed her gently like a first ever kiss. The way he might have kissed her if it was their first time, shyly and with deference. If Hermione had dared to turn back time she would have gone to this moment, here in the Great Hall. Even if her fourteen year old self had suffered the humiliation of rejection for the rest of her school days, she would have risked it for his lips to have been the first to kiss her. Slowly he pulled away. He bought his forehead to meet hers looking into her eyes.  
"It's your turn now," he told her.


	26. Amortentia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco explore the Fantasies of their youth.

Hermione had made it clear that the library held one of her fantasies and he wanted to make it true for her. There was a favourite window seat there. It lay beneath a large mullioned window where the sunlight streamed in when it was low in the sky. It had always seemed to Hermione to be a love seat. She had imagined many a liaisons there. At first she dreamed of her literary hero's but latterly it was Draco she imagined seated there framed against the background of the Scottish Highlands. Now she sat on the library love seat, as the early morning sun rose above the Scottish mountains with Draco's head resting in her lap. She remembered the last time that she held him in her lap this way but she would not dwell on their tragic past. Not here, not today.  
She ran her fingers through his hair, revelling in the silken softness of it. How long had she wanted to do that? It seemed to have been half a life time. She was fifteen when she had her first day dream of this moment, here on this seat in front of this window she had fantasised about kissing him. She had dreamt that it was earlier morning. She had risen early to complete an essay and he was there on this seat staring out into the distance.  
"I use to imagine you sitting here, pensive, staring out across the mist shrouded grounds," she told him, "I would sneak up behind you, a disillusionment charm in place disguising who I truly was. I would cover your eyes with my hands 'you mustn't look' I would whisper, so quietly in your ear, before taking your breath with an unexpected kiss."  
Hermione grazed his jawline with her fingertips. To be able to touch him now like this, for real, it was like quenching a thrust after days in the dessert. She wanted to touch him, all of him, every inch of him. She began to explore his collar bone with the tips of her fingers, spreading her fingers wide and slowly running them down his pectoral muscles. ‘Merlin he's beautifu,’ she inwardly mused. He moaned at her touch pulling her into him. It felt so different from before, they were free of the curse but she still felt that rising yearning for him deep in her core, only this time she knew it was real.  
"Draco, kiss me," she demanded. He smirked; she had not seen that expression on his face for some time. It seemed so apt here in this place. Before she could say anything he had pinned against the casement.  
"Is this what you want?" He pecked her gently on the lips, "or may be this?" He kissed her again, lingering a little longer. She caught on quickly to this little game shaking her head to indicate that his ministrations were not acceptable. He kissed her again, harder this time.  
"This?" She shook he head more vehemently. He took her head in his hands and devoured her. He kissed her with so much passion that she thought she would black out from lack of air. She moaned into his mouth his hands ran down her back and under the hem of her skirt lifting it so he could run his fingers along her thigh. Hermione shivered at his touch. He nipped at her ear, "I love you," he whispered on a shuddering breath.  
"Not here Draco," she stilled him.  
"There is no one here, I promise you," he reassured her.  
"No it's not that, we were fifteen when I first dreamt this. I would never have gone any further."  
He nodded. Draco wasn't sure he fully understood but he was prepared to go along with it.  
"It's your turn to choose a dream now."  
Draco thought for a moment, where should he begin?  
"You remember in fifth year, Slughorn was our new potions master. For the first lesson he had brewed a draught of amortentia. I can see you now, know-it-all Granger:  
“'...for instance I smell, spearmint toothpaste, parchment, freshly mown grass and...' you never said what else. I desperately hoped it was something associated with me."  
Hermione just smiled knowingly, Draco sighed and continued.  
"I imagined you had said the scent of my soap or cologne and that you blushed furiously. When the lesson was over I imagined pinning you to the wall outside Slughorn's room demanding you tell me who you smelt and when you revealed it was me I would kiss you forcefully, pressing you hard into the stone wall of the corridor. You would let out a small moan of desire that you didn't intend to escape and then I would step back from you and walk away."  
"Cruel Draco!" She scolded.  
"Ah, but no my love, I imaged that I sped down the corridor ahead of you and as you passed I caught your arm and pulled you with me into the broom cupboard."  
"To what end?" Hermione enquired.  
"Oh, I intended to snog you soundly, but nothing more."  
Hermione chuckled at this.  
"Well what are you waiting for Mr Malfoy, shall we?"  
Draco led the way towards the potions classroom. He was about to live out one of the favourite fantasies of his 15 year old self. He may be a grown man now but the idea of pinning Hermione against the castle's ancient walls and snogging her soundly had never lost its potency.  
As they approached the classroom door Draco spun suddenly and had Hermione pinned against the wall her hands above her head. His long muscle pressed deliciously against her holding her in place. The weight of him made her slightly breathless and she drew a deep breath that was in no small part from longing.  
"Tell me Granger," he breathed into the shell of her ear as he acted his part, "what else was it that you smelled?  
"Wouldn't you like to know Malfoy?" She responded playing her role but with a playful undertone that she would never have used before.  
"Do you smell it now?"  
She breathed him in.  
"Spearmint toothpaste, parchment, freshly mown grass and expensive spiced cologne."  
He raised a brow at her.  
"Oh yes Draco, it was you, that I could smell."  
"Merlin Hermione!" he exclaimed in wonder.  
He collided with her lips and snogged her passionately as he had promised he would. Then snapped away from her, turned on his heels and disappeared.  
Hermione smirked. She would have been confused had he done this in their youth but she could not imagine she would have been unmoved. She wondered idly how things might have played out if they had done this when they were students here? She suspected it would have made no difference in the grand scheme of things. Draco would still have been trapped by his circumstances. Perhaps neither of them would have survived.  
She headed down the corridor in the direction of her former common room following in Draco's wake. Hermione giggled as he pulled her into a broom cupboard.  
"I imaged this so many times, pulling you into my arms in the darkness." She heard him say in the pitch dark. "I would caressing your sides, you wouldn't resist me, you would have pushed your arms over my shoulders and up into my hair."  
Hermione moved her hands as if his words were a set of instructions. She couldn't believe how erotic it was hearing him speak his fantasies in this way, his rich baritone reverberating in the tightly confined space. She ran her hands up over his shoulders grazed his neck and threaded her fingers through his soft fine hair. It was so wonderful to be able to feel his skin and his hair with her own hands.  
"I would kiss the base of your neck, then trail searing hot kisses up your throat and across your jaw." All this he did as he spoke.  
"Oh, Draco," to have his lips on her skin this way made her want to cry out his name.  
"And you would cry out my name," he said a smirk forming on his lips in the darkness.  
Hermione was lost now, lost in his embrace. She ran her hands down his back tracing the long muscles beside his spine. She had to fight the urge to bite him, to sink her teeth into his shoulder as he trailed a single finger down her spine and began stroking circles on her buttocks teasing the edge of that warm secret place that now throbbed in response to him.  
She began to trace his torso, dragging her fingers across his chest, pushing aside his shirt, caressing his abdomen, exploring every inch of his skin.  
"Oh, Draco," she had cried his name just like his fantasies. Draco wanted to take her now here up against the wall in the broom cupboard but he knew if he did he wouldn't last long. He knew he needed some release.  
He would swear she had read his mind. Her hands brushed the v of muscle that began above his hip bone. She followed the line of muscle below his waist band.  
"Hermione," he gasped.  
Grasping her wrists and dragging her hands back to his shoulder.  
"Not yet," Draco couldn't believe he had uttered those words but there was too much else he wanted to do with her, he couldn't get too carried away-not yet.  
"You know you would have run from me by now," his voice was low and laced with longing. Hermione knew what it must have cost him to pull away from her at this moment leaving them both wanting.  
Hermione pushed away from him and fled the broom cupboard.


	27. Slytherin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco's honeymoon moves on to the Slytherin dorms.

Finally he caught her, laughing as she returned to the library, seated again in the window. He asked her:  
"What next?"  
"I only have one other desire Draco," she told him, "I only wish now to wake in your arms, to sleep with my head upon your shoulder."  
Draco smiled.  
"I want that too."  
"I used to imagine that you swept me off my feet," Hermione began, "and we crept into the Slytherin dorms. You would lay me on your bed, draw the drapes, put up a silencing charm and then make love to me. It would be tender, sweet and gently. You would be my first lover."  
"And I would worship and adore you and afterwards I would hold you in my arms until dawn." He continued their mutual fantasy. "Shall we?" He held out his hand for her to lead her to the dungeons and the Slytherin common room.  
"This way," he led the way to the boy’s dorms. Emerald and silver drapes hung at each bed. It was in many ways the antithesis of the Gryffindor common room; dark ebony beds lined the walls.  
"Which was your bed?" Hermione asked.  
Draco indicated the bed between the window and the fireplace.  
"The one with the view of the Great Lake of course."  
"Of course," she smirked at him.  
"This is not how I imagined this, close your eyes," he demanded.  
Hermione was happy to oblige, she closed her eyes and waited patiently. She listened to his beautiful voice as he whispered the incantations to transform the room how he might have imagined it.  
"You can open your eyes now."

The fire blazed in the hearth, at the foot of the bed was a trunk with the initials DM on it. The bedsheets which had been plain white cotton were now gunmetal grey silk and spread atop the bed was an emerald green chemise. Hermione could tell it was the finest silk, trimmed with fine black French lace. Draco held it up for her.  
"I would be honoured if you wore this for me; I always thought you would look fabulous in Slytherin green."  
"And what will you wear for me?" She demanded.  
"Anything you wish my Lady Malfoy, I am yours to command," Hermione laughed as his attempt at a medieval style of gallantry.   
"Those black silk boxers of yours would be sufficient, or do I mean insufficient?" She continued to chuckle as he began to strip out of his clothes." Not so fast Malfoy," She demanded.  
He stilled, frozen with one arm half out of his robes.  
"I think I would like to help you," she flicked her wand, replacing her robes with the silk chemise he had asked her to wear, before she step in closer to him. He had divested himself of his outer robes and stood there in a crisp ice blue shirt. Open at the neck it partially revealed his clavicle. His slacks were a cool grey the fabric tailored loose enough to allow ease of moment. Even in such simple attire he was the epitome of style. Hermione envied him the unstudied ease with which he achieved such elegance.

Hermione placed her index finger to his lips as if to silence him but that was never her intent. Slowly, deliberately with only the merest pressure she dragged her fingertip down his lips forcing them to part. Pulling her finger slowly down his throat she ghosted over his Adam's apple as he swallowed down a gulping breath. Down still, tracing his breast bone to the first button of his shirt.

Draco watch mesmerised as her dextrous fingers flipped the button and button hole apart. She reached his waist band, he held his breath anticipating that she might go lower but she raised her hands her touch feather light as she pushed his shirt from his shoulders.

Hermione looked at him now in all his glory, the light of the fire giving his skin a rosy hue. Leaning forward she placed her cheek upon his smooth soft skin. She could hear the percussion beat of his heart drumming in his chest, beating a tattoo to their love. She took a deep breath; there it was that smell, so uniquely him. That was what the amortentia had revealed. She had known it was him and that revelation had terrified her more than mountain trolls, more than dementors but it was not a fear of him, it was the fear of facing her own sexuality. Now she could revel in it. She turned her head slightly and nipped lightly across his chest.

Draco shuddered at her touch. He brought his hands to her shoulders delicately brushing her sides. He lowered his mouth to the curve of her neck kissing along the delicate skin to the point below her ear. Her head fell back to give him more access. He stepped back a pace so he could lean in. Kissing down her throat between her breasts. He stopped to trace the curve that was the underside of her bust and she shivered.

Hermione was lost to the sensation of his touch. All else, every thought, every other sight or sound was buried under the desire for him. His hand came to her breasts teasing the curved underside, moving round in ever decreasing circles. Her skin was hyper-sensitised now, every caress, every brush of her skin shot like static through her veins. His breath ghosting her flesh burned like fire. But it was a glorious burn, an exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain that drove her to gasp his name.

"Draco," she gasped. She was writhing beneath his touch. Every lap of her skin caused a counter reaction. She sighed, she squirmed, she shuddered for him, she cried out as his lips touched her breast. He slipped lower, trailing his tongue from her naval downward to her core. Hermione thought she might die as he kissed her there. 

"Sweet mercy," she whispered, "I want you."

They had waited so longer neither of them thought they could last long enough not to take a selfish pleasure. Yet somehow they were attuned to each other. When finally he entered her she was so near, teetering on the edge of the abyss. Draco felt her beginning to ripple around his engorged length and he knew he was lost, one final driving lunge and he was undone. He was so deep that when she came she didn't see stars, she saw constellations, galaxies, the whole vastness of space. 

In the warm afterglow she lay in his arms and a small selfish part of her thought it had all been worth it; the deaths, the chaos and destruction of war, the tragedies of their lives. She would do it all again if its purpose was to bring her here to this moment with him.


	28. Malfoy's Trimuph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Malfoys try to win over the Wizarding World.

The honeymoon over the most difficult challenge was yet to come and Hermione turned to her mother-in-law for help with this. She and Draco had yet to go public. First they would allow their wider friendship group to know and then the general public.  
Hermione felt her hands shake slightly with trepidation as Draco left her to meet their party guests and announce his new family member.  
Hermione stood listening for her cue, resplendent in her green satin gown chosen to compliment her engagement ring and hide the slight baby bump. She heard Draco ring his champagne glass to draw everyone's attention.  
"Friends, honoured guests we have invited you here this evening, yes to eat drink and be merry but also to join us in celebration." Had it skipped their notice that he had spoken in the third person? Hermione wondered as she awaited her big entrance. "Ladies and gentlemen I would like to introduce you to my new wife, Hermione." That was her cue Hermione entered the room and took his hand, which he immediately drew to his lips and kissed. A buzz went around the room before there was spontaneous applause. Hermione had not expected that, but then these were their friends. Would it be so easy to win over the public?  
There friends were asked to maintain their confidence. Draco asked that they respected the couples privacy that it was their intention to go public so to speak at the ministry annual remembrance event. He reminded them that their marriage would be controversial but as former enemies they hoped their marriage would be accepted as a symbol of reconciliation. But this required perfect timing and stage management and for that they need their help.  
In reality this was only partly true it was also intended to give them time to for Hermione to give birth she could not hide her pregnancy much longer. So they waited.  
Draco had always loved the way Hermione screamed his name but not that night. He was afraid, he had lost Astoria from the birth of Scorpius he could barely breathe for the thought that something might happen to either Hermione or the child. When suddenly all went silent it was the longest 10 seconds of his life. Then he heard the cry of a new born child.The healers had sent him away his anxiety, they claimed, was upsetting the mother but he would not be kept out now. He nearly fainted with relief when he saw her babe in arms.  
"Draco," she said, "come and meet your son."  
Draco was in awe, she had given him a son, an heir to carry on the Malfoy name.  
"I thought we might call him Leo Scorpius," Draco reflected on this but Hermione chose to explain:"Leo for the constellation, in the Black family tradition and for his Gryffindor mother, Scorpius for his late brother and then of course Malfoy because he is your son."  
Draco knew it was perfect, "Hello Leo," he said as his son wrapped his small hand around his father's finger.  
Later as she laid him in his crib Hermione reflected on their son's looks, he had his father's blond hair, pale skin and eyes. But the genes had not quite bred true, perhaps it was her muggle heritage but the boy had curls. He would grow thorough looking like a cherub, to looking like an angel before emulating the appearance of a Greek god. Hermione knew one thing she thought; "I have to teach him humility. That he will not learn from his father."  
Hermione had recovered her health and her figure after Leo's birth, the little boy was a picture of health and safely in the care of his grandmother. Hermione had dressed with extreme care. Her red gown was the height of fashion, it flowed like water around her as she walked, the Tears of the Phoenix necklace, which had become a favourite, completed her ensemble. Hermione was dressed to make an entrance and that was exactly what she was going to do.  
It was the night of the charity remembrance ball hosted by the ministry and she and Draco were going to go public. Against all the odds they had kept their marriage out of the public domain. Only their families, a few healers and their closest friends were aware they were married. Hermione felt a mixture of both excitement and intrepidation as they prepared to leave for the event.  
As far as the rest of the wizarding world was aware Draco was still an eligible widower who had given a generous charitable donation to the victims of the Second Wizarding War. On that basis he would be announced to the assembled crowd as one of the charities most generous patrons. Draco had also dressed with care, her heart ached as she looked at him. He was stunningly handsome still. She knew she would be viewed with envy by many in the crowd, even if they pretended to be scandalised by the pair.  
She was snapped out of her reverie by her husband's voice. "You look incredible beautiful this evening it will be my greatest pleasure to have you on my arm".  
"You look breathtakingly handsome and I will ensure you stay on my arm," she responded with a smile.  
"Are you ready?" He asked handing her her cloak. Hermione nodded her assent."'Let the games begin" she thought.  
As they apparated into the venue, a Georgian mansion on the banks of the river Thames, Draco immediately drew attention. He was infamous after all. Hermione had discreetly hidden her face in the hood of her cloak, they had both placed disillusionment charms on their wedding rings. There would be no hint of their relationship until the moment was right. People simple assumed she was his date for the evening and paid her little attention. Rumours finally began to spread when she checked in her cloak. The few who had not already entered the ballroom were shocked to see the relatively recently divorced Hermione accompanying Draco Malfoy. Hermione was sure she heard a gasp as Draco took her hand to lead her to the top of the staircase from which they would be announced.  
"Ready?" He asked, she nodded as they stepped forward into the public gaze.  
"Ladies and gentlemen, honoured guests, witches and wizards of all ages, may I present from amongst our greatest patrons, Mr and Mrs Draco Malfoy."  
Hermione smiled up at him then, he had stage managed this so skilfully, the room had fallen utterly silent, many a face was shocked others awestruck at the sight of the stunning couple. Hermione had to suppress a smirk that was fighting to morph onto her face as a spontaneous round of applause rang out across the room.  
Hermione knew that Draco had redeemed himself in her eyes, whether he could earn public redemption was another matter, but she knew that even if it was Draco and herself against the rest of the wizarding world she would stand by him for he was a better man than any one of them knew, a bravery man, a kinder man and she loved him.


	29. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy ever after?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter.  
> Thank you for all of your support. This was the first fan fiction I ever wrote, which was original posted on another site, I wasn’t entirely happy with it then so wanted to improve it-hope that you have enjoyed this updated and extended version of this story.

"We have a treat for you this morning Weasley," the guard said a hint of condescension in his voice.

"There is some lovely news in the Daily Prophet we are sure you will enjoy it."

Deep in his cell in Azkaban Ron Weasley knew nothing of what had gone on in the outside world but he knew deep down that this was not an act of kindness. The guards of Azkaban were vicious and unkind and he would not give them the benefit. He refused to look. After a while the guard grew bored.

"Oh please yourself Weasley," he said throwing the paper across the filthy floor.

It lay there open on the front page and he could see her smiling out of the picture. He could sense that who or whatever she was smiling at made her deeply proud and happy. Perhaps it was Rose? Unable to resist Ron unfurled the rest of the page.

'Symbol of hope and reconciliation: Malfoy secretly weds War Heroine.' The headline stated.

Ron's eyes were drawn to the image now, there she stood, like a princess on the arm of the smug git, the look of pride and adoration was directed at him, she had divorced him and married Malfoy.

"No!" Ron screamed as he screwed up the 'rag' and hurled it across the room.

"If I ever get out of here your days are numbered Malfoy, I promise."

The End


End file.
